RESPECT
by King in Yellow
Summary: Monique knows there is no point to dating Will Du. Will Du can afford to get things done his own way. Irresistible object vs Unmovable force. With luck, two winners. Spans four years, from meeting to wedding. Best Enemies Universe.
1. The Lessons of History

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage. 

Author's Note: I don't normally start a story with no plans to continue it in the immediate future. A pile of started stories rest in my hard drive until the day I finish them and they can be posted. But this has been nagging in the back of my head for a while and I wanted to write up the background. A few people have complained of my Will Du and Monique pairing. Monique would have agreed with that from the first evening she met Will.

**Chapter 1 - The Lessons of History**

**The Grant Family Pedigree**

The old South denied slaves the right to family names, history, or even marriage. Some slave records allow partial reconstruction of familial links, but no one in Monique's family had seriously tried to trace family history before Cato. The South liked to give Roman names to slaves, as a way of imaging they were in some way like that ancient civilization. Of course ancient Rome knew nothing of racism, but for the old South the patriarchal glory of Rome was the perception in the minds of the large plantation owners rather than the ugly details of their present-day reality.

Cato knew nothing of Rome and Latin, but the ugly details of slavery were his daily reality. In the autumn of 1863, with the Confederacy split in two and the North demonstrating a willingness and ability to win the war Cato and the woman he lived with left their two children with his brother and fled the plantation. Their first act, on reaching the Union lines, was to request the chaplain marry them. When the chaplain insisted on a last name Cato chose Grant, for the man who had taken Vicksburg

The two took menial jobs in the Union camp while waiting the day they could reclaim their children. She died a few months later from one of the many diseases which killed more soldiers than combat. As the North realized that blacks bled and died just as well as whites, and were perhaps more willing to do so, it became politically popular to allow them the opportunity, and Cato traded in his shovel for a Springfield musket.

Cato Grant felt no compulsion to return to the old farm and the life of the sharecropper in the era of Reconstruction. His brother accepted responsibility for the two boys, and they took the last name Duke from their former owners. They remained on the land as Cato traded up from the Springfield musket to a Sharps carbine and served in the 10th as a Buffalo Soldier. He met his second wife in Nicodemus, Kansas. The two had three daughters and one son -- William Tecumseh Grant.

Willy T. engaged in combat in the jingoism known as the Spanish American War, and remained in the military even when the war ended and African-American soldiers returned to digging latrines and other support services. His two surviving sisters had despaired of his marriage, but he surprised them and wed a pretty Duke cousin on the eve of US entry into World War I, where he served as an orderly in the Medical Corps.

Willy T.'s son, Theodore Roosevelt Grant, broke his father's heart when he enlisted in the U.S. Navy. On the morning of December 7, 1941 black messman Dorie Miller was one of the few Americans thinking fast enough to man an anti-aircraft gun as his ship, the Arizona, came under attack. His friend Teddy helped carry ammunition to him. Despite the fact Dorie had received no training on the weapon he fired he brought down four Japanese Zeros. Dorie died in 1943, serving aboard the Lescome Bay. In the newly integrated US military Teddy Grant came out of the war as an ensign, becoming a lieutenant during the Korean Conflict and eventually retiring as a lieutenant commander during the last days of the War in Vietnam.

Teddy followed his father in marrying late. His second son, Dwight David, followed his father's tradition by jumping services and returned to the Army. Captain Dwight Grant, fourth generation career military, served with distinction in Operation Desert Storm. An Army Court of Inquiry determined the act of carelessness responsible for the death of Major Grant and three other men during training exercises several years later did not come from the Major, but could not fix the blame.

After his death his widow returned to her hometown, Middleton, to find a job to help supplement the military pension as she raised three children. That fall his daughter, Monique, enrolled as a freshman at Middleton High.

**The Duquesne Family Pedigree**

France continued to have more nobles than it could comfortably support despite efforts by the English to reduce the number of noble families at battles such as Crécy and Agincourt. The nobles bred like rabbits and by the time of Louis XIV their number was again larger than could find comfortable support at home, especially with the King's rapacious taxation policies. Charles Duquesne, third son of a family at the bottom of the noble ladder, knew his chances a decent inheritance were only slightly greater than the odds he might sprout wings and fly, so he resolved to journey to France's new territories across the ocean, make his fortune, and return to luxurious retirement in Paris.

Charles settled among the Haudenosaunee and prospered by dint of hard work. But he never made it back to France. A doe-eyed Iroquois maid captured his heart. Unlike some French, who adopted a love 'em and leave 'em attitude towards the Native Americans Charles did the right thing and found a Jesuit priest to consecrate the union.

Their son, Louis Duquesne, grew up fluent in both languages. And while the wonders of Paris his father described filled his head with dazzling images they did not turn him from the business of business. He might someday have wished to see the land of his father, but yet another doe-eyed Iroquois maiden captured his heart as well.

The third son of Louis, Françoise, added English to the languages he spoke and maintained his smuggling interests with the American colonists even during the French and Indian Wars when their people were officially in conflict. His guiding principle appeared to have been, "War is always good business for someone." His wife, Marie, also boasted one-quarter French blood along with that of the Iroquois nation.

The descendants of their son, Franklin Duquesne, who settled in Delaware following the American Revolution, would in time forget and deny early branches of the family tree. The early Duquesne men had married "women who came over from France," according to family tradition. Catholics were regarded with suspicion in the new nation and Franklin abandoned the church of his forefathers for one with better business connections.

The American branch of the Duquesne family continued to trade with the branch in Quebec, to the mutual profit of both sides. Two of Franklin's grandson's later moved to the American south to explore the potential for profits in that region. The Northern Duquesnes found New Englanders utterly unable to pronounce their family name properly and in time shortened it to Du, and finally even accepted the pronunciation 'doo' that everyone seemed to assume.

The Southern branch would shorten their name to Duke. A Duke would later serve as Undersecretary of the Treasury for the Confederate States of America. Backing the South proved one of the few money losing enterprises by the Duquesne tribe. While Dus in the North grew rich during the war through hard work and fraud the southern Dukes came out of the war with massive debts. While the Du branch offered loans to help their relatives back onto their feet the Dukes proudly refused, they sold their property and moved to Hazzard County, Georgia, for a life of less than gentile poverty.

Since the Dus preferred solid investments and real estate to buying on margin they survived the Great Depression in relatively good shape. Several banks they owned shares in went out of business, and the face value of most of their stocks took a tremendous loss. But Andrew Du toughed it out by laying off most of the domestic staff and restricting himself to his Newport mansion until the economy began to revive. During the Second World War his ancestor Françoise's motto proved true once again.

Andrew's wealth had been great enough to insure every descendant from each of his three wives (and two children with servants) a comfortable life, but not a happy one. Squabbles over who should have inherited what and who should sit on which board of directors kept Du family gatherings from bringing joy to any of them.

**Monique Grant**

Every race, religion, gender, and sexual preference has individuals who create society's negative stereotypes. There are drunken Irishmen, even if Irishmen who don't drink or know how to hold their liquor would like to push them in the River Shannon. The widow Grant's brothers were a definite embarrassment to her. If she had hoped for support from her family when she moved back to Middleton she would have been disappointed. But she knew what they were -- they were part of the reason she had been so eager to leave Middleton on graduation from high school.

However, warts and all, they remained family. And even if she drew on her own limited resources to help them more than they ever made an effort to help her and her family she vowed she would set an example of responsibility for her family.

Monique filled her mother's heart with pride. Smart and hard-working there was nothing her daughter couldn't do if she set her mind to it. Financing college represented her mother's only concern in regard to Monique. When the Club Banana scholarship came through it erased that single worry.

Martin, her oldest son and Monique's younger brother, filled her mother's heart with sorrow and fear as well as pride. She saw her late husband every time she looked at him. He wanted to follow the path of Grant men. Sometimes his mother wished he would find something else to do with his life - she knew he was smart enough. Sometimes she felt ashamed of herself for thinking like that.

**William Du**

The driving energy which started the family fortune was seldom seen in later generations of Dus. William, who also inherited the dark complexion and high cheek-bones of his doe-eyed foremothers, was an exception to the tendency. With enough money in his trust fund that he never needed to worry about using his energy to support himself the priggish youth sought some other outlet for his restlessness. Told from birth he was superior to others he tried to demonstrate that by excelling at everything he attempted. He read a dictionary to impress others with his vocabulary. His attitude endeared him to no one, and while he finished high school at fifteen and college at seventeen through hard work rather than genius he accomplished the feat without making a single friend in the process.

He resolved that, as a superior sort, he should help others less fortunate than himself. Similar urges had sent several Du men into politics, where their efforts to help others helped to create a number of large tax loopholes for the family. William resolved to help others by joining Global Justice. His older sister chalked it up to watching too many James Bond movies, but the family could afford yet another eccentric. At least his hobby wouldn't set the family back any money in legal fees.

Will threw himself into a year of intensive training after college and achieved the highest marks ever recorded on virtually all GJ entry tests.

As the various department heads spoke about the latest batch of potential recruits his name came up again and again from those who only knew him from his test performances, followed by the remark "Outstanding."

One of the few exceptions was the psychologist who had administered the personality test. "I don't know," he told Betty Director, "it's the first time I've seen a negative charisma score on the profile. If he was any less aware of the feelings of others I'd diagnose him with Asperger's Syndrome "

A rumor, never confirmed, claimed that Global Justice raised its minimum age for joining from eighteen to twenty-one specifically because of Will Du, but that, having been hired, the rule could not be applied retroactively.

**New Year's Eve** (see Cognitive Dissonance for the more complete story)

Will respected a very exclusive list of individuals, and Kim Possible's name appeared on that list. Even the fact the redhead seemed to be entering a relationship with the villain Shego could not alter the fact she was extremely resourceful and effective. When Kim invited him to a New Year's Eve party at her house he accepted. He seldom received an invitation to any gathering except for family events and GJ staff meetings.

He frowned as he parked in front of the Possibles' home. He remembered Kim telling him eight, and his memory never failed him. He saw only a few cars near the house. He considered the possibility he had the wrong address, and dismissed the idea he might have made a mistake as ridiculous.

Kim answered the doorbell.

"Miss Possible, Kim, I seem to be early..." he apologized

"No Will, I needed a couple people to come early and help gets things set up. You've always seemed so nice I thought I'd take advantage of you. Can you come this way to the kitchen?"

The redhead made fast introductions after leading him to the kitchen, "Monique, this is Will, he works at Global Justice-- Can I tell her that?"

"It appears that you already have."

"Oh, Will, this is Monique. We've been friends for years; she's really nice. Can you help her slice up vegetables for tonight? Thanks. Bye."

They stared at Kim as she left for another room. "Ah, Monique? How would you assess Kim's behavior?"

"I don't want to say, what do you think?"

"I don't want to say either, which means we both are thinking the same thing."

"She's trying--"

"to set--"

"us up."

"She wasn't terribly subtle, was she? I've worked with her on some missions and have a high regard for her abilities. Therefore, I am wondering why she did it in such an obvious and clumsy fashion." On three occasions his older sister had attempted to set him up with one of her friends. None of the three ever spoke with her again and she had given up.

"Uh, Sherlock, before you get too analytical I've got to tell you that while Kim may think fast on a mission she isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer in social situations. There is a chance she thought she was being subtle."

"That is awkward. What do you propose?"

"Well, let's start by slicing up the veggies. Here's a peeler -- work on those." Monique felt at ease in all situations. Moving between army bases as a small child gave her a lot of experience meeting new people. And as assistant manager at Club Banana she had learned to put others at their ease quickly.

"What are they?" Will asked, staring at the round lumps, "Turnips?"

"Jicama. Open your mouth." She gave him a slice from the pile she had prepared.

"There's not much flavor. Nice and crisp though."

"Yeah, no fat, and it doesn't mess up the flavor of the dip. Of course you still get lots of fat from the dip."

They didn't speak much as they worked with peelers and knives in the kitchen. Will attempted to impress her with his vocabulary. His ploy typically annoyed people rather than impressed them. Kim's pretty friend simply seemed amused. She called him 'Sherlock' and 'Mr. Du, Will Du'.

She laughed at things he said, although they weren't meant to be funny, and he wondered briefly if she wasn't very bright. He got his answer a little later, "Tell me, Sherlock, if someone asks you a question which requires a simple 'yes' or 'no' as an answer are you physically capable of saying 'yes' or would you say," she tried to lower her voice and imitate his clipped tones, "'I feel I must respond to that interrogative with an affirmative.'?"

He started to smile; he got the joke. He started to blush; he not only really got the joke but it appeared he was the joke. Will recovered enough to attempt something unusual for him, a joke of his own. "I feel I must respond to that interrogative with a negative."

She smiled. Even though she was one of 'those' people, and he never knew what to say to 'them', she had smiled when he tried to be funny. "Boy, you better try and amp down for this party," she advised him.

"Amp down?"

"You don't go showing off your vocabulary and I won't show you mine," she told him. Shego would probably have purred and asked Monique to "Please, show me yours," but if the thought could have entered Will's head it could not have used his mouth for an exit point.

A few minutes later he asked, "Are we done?" He felt slightly disappointed for losing his excuse to be near her.

"Yeah, Sherlock, we can clean up in here and graduate from kitchen help to party animals." She swung a hip over and bumped it up against his. Under his tan Will blushed furiously. _ "What in the world is Kim thinking?"_ Monique wondered. _ "This poor guy is so shy it hurts."_

The Drs. Possible seemed in command of the main floor with their guests from Middleton Research and the Hospital. Kim and her college friends and high school friends who were home on semester break dominated the recreation room in the basement.

Monique, Kim, and Ron were the only people at the party who claimed any acquaintance to William Du and, like a literary Fitzwilliam, he found himself ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers. Will didn't care much for Ron, who seemed bent on dominating the pool table anyway. And the disturbing presence of Shego at the party meant that he avoided Kim as much as possible. His choices appeared to be leave early or stick to Monique like glue. The black woman found his puppy-like attention slightly annoying in that it kept her from dancing and interacting with other friends as much as she wanted. But she knew he lacked friends at the party and felt pity for him.

Bonnie came over and challenged Monique to a game of pool. Monique still didn't get along especially well with Kim's dorm mate, but that only made the prospect of humiliating her on the pool table all the sweeter. There was a fly in the ointment, however -- a very large fly with blond hair. Monique pointed out that Ron appeared unwilling to leave the table. Bonnie signaled Kim to come over, then nudged Monique to speak up.

"Come on, Kim," Monique complained. "He's hogging the table. He says he gets to play as long as he's the winner -- the rest of us can only challenge the winner. Beat him and give someone else a chance."

"Sorry, Monique, but I'm too busy to play."

Will spoke up, "I believe I have the next game, perhaps I'll be able to defeat him."

"I doubt it Sherlock. You don't look like the eight-ball type, and Ron's good."

But Ron was not good enough. After Will sank the eight ball Ron surrendered his cue. Will bowed to Monique and handed her his cue. "Who would you like to play?"

Bonnie laughed and spoke up, "Let me play her."

Will Du watched in wonder, and Monique in disgust, as Bonnie giggled and played stupid -- resulting in Ron putting his arms around her and trying to show her how to how the cue properly. Monique stole a fast glance at Will, _"If he tries that I'm going to pop him."_

Will didn't know what to say to Monique, and for most of the evening she endured listening to long silences from beside her and the laughter and conversation of friends in the distance. Later in the night the pool table became less popular, and at a moment when no one was on it she dragged Will over and handed him a cue.

"You'll play left-handed," she told him.

"I don't play left-handed," he informed her.

"Blind-folded then. Your choice."

"Left-handed."

It was completely ridiculous. Even Ron came over and snickered as they played. Will still shot a better game and downed the stripes while Monique tried to sink the solids more with luck than skill. But Will scratched going for the eight ball and Monique threw her arms in the air and let out a victory whoop.

Will smiled, he hated to lose and he could not consider what they were playing anything other than a burlesque, but he couldn't remember feeling happier than he had that evening.

When the party broke up after midnight Will left, knowing he wanted to see Monique again.

Kim only had a minute to talk with Monique as she left. "Well?" the redhead demanded.

Monique shook her head, "GF, I'm coming over tomorrow to give you a piece of my mind, 'cause I don't think you have any left of your own. If you ever shove something else like him at me I'm going to hit you with a stick. I just may anyway."

"That bad?"

"I'll give you the gory details tomorrow."

Monique came over early in the afternoon on January first. Kim promised to never try and set Monique up again.

The black woman managed to forget the whole painful incident as second semester of her freshman year at college began. One Thursday evening a couple weeks later it returned forcefully to her. Monique sat at the kitchen table, sweating over calculus homework when the phone rang.

"I'll get it," Marty shouted, hoping it would be his girlfriend or one of his hoop buddies. A minute later he called, "'Nique, it's for you."

She sighed; Kim or a close friend would have called her cell. "Hello?"

"Miss Monique Grant?" a slightly familiar voice asked.

_"Great, a telemarketer,"_ she thought. "Yes."

"This is Will, I--"

"Will?"

"Will Du, we met at the Possible's on New Year's Eve. I had hoped I left a more lasting impression."

"Oh, Will. Sorry, I didn't think I'd be hearing from you." _"At least I hoped I wouldn't."_

"There are seventeen Grant families in the Middleton phone book," he reported. "Did you know your family is number eleven on the list?"

He asked questions about the semester which she answered politely. Will possessed the mysterious power to make even calculus sound more appealing. Monique was trying to think of a way to end the call without telling him to drop dead when he came to his point. "The Boston Symphony will perform at the Middleton Auditorium on the twenty-eighth."

"Uh-huh." _"Symphony? I'll just say no to this guy and be done with it."_

"Would you object to my escorting you to the performance?"

"No, I--"

"That's wonderful. I'll pick you up at seven."

Monique heard the dial tone; he'd hung up. She stared at the phone for a minute. _"I'm going to have to get a stick and see Kim,"_ she thought.

---

To be continued, at an unknown date. Some later events in the relationship have been mentioned in passing in other Best Enemies stories.


	2. Wrong Note at the Symphony

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are owned by Disney. All registered trade names property of their respective owners.

Chronological Note: the story is set just after chapter 11 of Cognitive Dissonance.

**Chapter 2 - Wrong Note at the Symphony**

Monique's mom entered the kitchen to put the kettle on the stove while Monique stared at the phone with feelings of amazement, amusement, and anger. "Would you like a cup of tea too?" she asked her daughter.

"Huh?"

"A cup of tea, dear. Is something wrong?"

"I'm not sure, I think I either got tricked into a date or made one by accident."

Her mother looked puzzled, "How can you make a date by accident?"

"Well the way he worded the invitation, he just took my 'no' as a 'yes'."

"There are no accidents in affairs of the heart," her mother teased.

"This isn't an affair of the heart. It's some boring symphony with a man so dull he'll make the symphony seem exciting. And what do you mean, 'no accidents in affairs of the heart?' What about Uncle Jack?"

"Those weren't accidents. Your Uncle Jack is an idiot, plain and simple."

"Emphasis on the plain and simple," Martin called from the living room.

"You hush your mouth," his momma scolded. "Don't you talk about your uncle that way."

"You just did," Marty reminded her.

"He's not my uncle, he's my brother. If I'd ever talked about my uncle that way my momma would have blistered my behind."

"So it's okay for me to talk about Marty that way?" Monique asked.

"No, your brother Martin is no idiot."

Monique raised her voice slightly, so her brother would hear her reply to their mother, "Well, if he keeps listening in to my conversations he's going to find being called an idiot the least of his worries."

Her mother sat down and talked with her about second semester classes until the water boiled. Monique wished the apartment was bigger, or allowed more privacy, or that Martin's ears weren't quite so good.

With a mug of tea in hand her mother leaned back in one chair and put her feet up on another. "Now, tell me about this date."

"I don't think there is going to be a date. I'm going to have Kim call him and tell him he didn't understand what I was saying."

"You're having Kim call him?"

"Well, she's the one who introduced us at that party at her house. I really don't want to go on a date with him."

"Is there something wrong with the young man?" her mother demanded.

Monique reflected for a minute, "I guess there is nothing _wrong_ with him. He's just dull. I think Daddy might have liked him though. He seems like a real 'Yes, sir' 'No, sir' kind of guy."

"Is he in the service?"

"No, Global Justice."

"Is that the group Kim wants to join?"

"Yes, that's them."

Her mother sipped her tea quietly for a few minutes. "You said your dad might have liked him?"

Monique hesitated, "No, Momma, I don't like where this is going."

"Did you say you'd go?"

"I'm… I'm not sure. Maybe. He sure thinks I agreed to."

"A little culture wouldn't hurt you. You're a college girl now." Her momma grinned, "But you be sure and listen real close if he ever asks you out again."

Monique smiled, "There won't be a date after this one."

She decided she wouldn't even mention the invitation to Kim. She didn't want the redhead to think the attempt to set her up was successful or even appreciated because in Monique's mind it was neither.

Will called back and apologized two nights later, "I'm sorry. I got so excited when you said you wouldn't mind going I forgot to give you the time. It starts at nine this Friday… Can I take you out to dinner before the concert?"

"I'm sorry," Monique lied, she wasn't sorry at all, "I'm working too late on Friday for dinner; I don't think there's time to trade with anyone else. Ah, how formal is this?"

"Well, it's a major fundraiser for the symphony, so it's rather formal. I plan on wearing a tux."

_"Oh great. I don't have anything to wear."_

Sunday afternoons were too busy at Club Banana to give Monique time to think. Monday, however, she confided her problem to the manager as they straightened stock.

Catherine Tyler paused as Monique recounted the situation and thought for a minute. "You aren't scheduled for tomorrow, are you?"

"No."

"Do you have class at three or can you stop by?"

Monique ran through her schedule in her mind, "Classes are over at two. I planned to hit the library."

"Well, come by here. We can leave Tomas in charge and go over to Talbots. You can do the library later."

"I don't know what my budget is looking like--"

"Don't worry about it," Cat assured her, "all the extra work you do around here? I owe you. Besides the manager is a friend, I can get it for you wholesale."

"I think something in a basic sheath," Cat told her friend at Talbots the next day. He eyed Monique critically, then selected a half dozen dresses for her to try on.

The two managers chatted outside the dressing room while Monique modeled the dresses.

"Dearie, you look divine in all of them," he assured her.

"I know," Cat laughed. "I wish I still had her figure."

"Cat, you never had her figure," the other manager told her. He looked at Monique, "What about the strapless navy? You've got what it takes to keep it up."

"Hmm, that was good," Cat agreed, "I also liked the long red with the slit almost up to her thigh."

"No," Monique told them. "I'm not trying for sexy. I don't want to encourage this guy. How about that knee-length in black or red?"

"When you've got it, you should flaunt it. And you've got it," the Talbots manager assured her. "But if that's what you want…"

"It's what I want."

"We'll take it in red," Cat told him.

Her mom had kept a plate of food warm for her when Monique arrived home after work on Friday evening. Mon ate quickly and went in to change.

"Mom? Can I borrow your pearls? I think they go with the outfit."

Her mother handed them in without looking, and Monique took them with a "Thanks!"

Any nervousness on Monique's part came entirely from the fact Cat had warned her the top of Middleton society would probably be there. Had she eaten out before the concert she would have worried about a piece of spinach caught between her teeth.

Her mother sighed when Monique came out into their small living room. She had looked like a girl in a prom dress for her prom. In the simple sheath dress with a strand of pearls she looked like a woman. "You look beautiful. Are you sure you aren't trying to impress this young man?"

"No way, Momma. But Cat told me that Middleton society sprouts the old bib and tucker -- whatever that means -- when the symphony plays. She doesn't want me to embarrass the store."

She felt no surprise when the doorbell rang at exactly the time when Will had promised to arrive. Martin yelled, "I got it," and buzzed the front door open. While punctuality would normally be considered a virtue Will struck her as someone who could take virtue to the level of vice.

Mrs. Grant's eyes narrowed as she looked him over, from the tux which fit him so well it appeared to have been tailored for him to the fact she couldn't identify the orchid or whatever flower he held in the corsage box, his appearance spoke money. And while she loved her daughter the thought that came to her mind was that Will considered himself slumming. She sighed; she would have to trust her daughter.

Monique had ducked back into her room to give her mother a chance to introduce herself and meet Will. It also allowed her to make an entrance. And even if she had no interest in Will Du the young woman thought she looked damned good in that outfit and wanted to catch his reaction. She felt in no way disappointed.

Will stood, struck dumb when she walked in. Many of the people who knew him would have paid good money to know the secret, although few of them could have worn the dress as well. When he finally found his tongue, which had apparently fallen from his open mouth onto the floor he managed a, "You look beautiful," with a sincerity so transparent it brought a smile to her face. She almost regretted not going with the strapless -- if he had suffered a heart attack she would have been spared having to go out with him.

He was in a trench coat of butter-soft leather loosely tied at the waist. She wished she had a coat that went with her outfit as she pulled something warm out of the coat closet. As she put it on her coat under her mother's watchful eye he suddenly remembered he was holding a corsage and tried to hand it to her.

"Do people actually wear those at the symphony?" Mrs. Grant asked.

"Um, usually not," he admitted. "My sister told me--"

"Look, Sherlock," Monique interrupted, "it's lovely and I'll wear it. But can we wait until I get to the Auditorium? It would just get crushed under my coat."

He nodded in agreement.

"I'm ready to roll," she told him and Will opened the door for her. "Bye, Momma!"

"Don't be too late," Martin called from the living room.

"Drop dead," she cheerfully shot back.

"Hold it down!" the neighbor across the hall yelled.

Monique noticed the Beemer at the curb the moment she stepped out the door. You didn't see a lot of BMWs in the neighborhood. Monique lived in a 'safe' neighborhood and it only drew some lustful stares, but she could not remember seeing one parked on her street before.

As they reached the curb he quickly stepped ahead and opened the car door for her. It took her a split second to figure out how to respond. No one had ever opened a car door for her before. She found it polite and gentlemanly but also decidedly chauvinistic at the same time. She decided to go forward with the polite and settled in as he came around and got in on the driver's side.

"Global Justice supplies you with a car?" she asked, making small talk as they drove to the Auditorium.

"No," he began, "I…" He wasn't sure what to say. She apparently didn't realize how much money his family had, and at least at this moment he wasn't trying to impress her with that fact. "It's mine for the evening," he finished lamely.

"You didn't need to rent anything so expensive."

The trip to Middleton Auditorium was largely silent. Monique tried to find a topic of conversation, but Will felt too nervous to engage in one. He had resolved to sound 'normal', but could no longer be sure what that meant for him.

He handed her the corsage box when they arrived at the Auditorium and took their coats to the cloakroom. She saw two other women wearing flowers while she waited, so decided to go ahead with it. She also noticed most men wore suits, not tuxes. When he got back she was still holding the box. "Are you going to pin it on me?" she asked.

"I, ah… Er."

Monique anticipated a boring evening and suspected this was the most fun she was going to have all night. Will Du, a man who worked very hard to project an image of being in complete control, appeared totally flustered. She handed him the pin and held the flower at the appropriate spot. She didn't mind the look of panic in his eyes or the way the color drained from his face, but she was not going to let him come near her with a pin when his hand was shaking like that. In pure self-defense she took the pin and put the corsage in place.

"There," she finally said.

He stared at her in an absent-minded, worshipful sort of way.

She reached over and knocked once on his forehead, "Mr. Bond?"

"What?" he asked in a startled voice. "You look beautiful."

"Yes, thank you. I've heard it before but always nice to hear it again. I think we're here for a concert though, right?"

"Oh, right." He offered her his arm and led her towards the hall.

Not having attended the symphony before Monique wasn't sure what were considered good seats, but had the distinct impression that fourth row, center, had to be good.

"How much did you pay for these tickets," she hissed as they sat down.

"I got them for free from a cousin," he whispered. The program thanked the various patrons and sponsors who made the concert that evening possible. One of the major donations came from a bank on which one of Will's cousins sat on the board. Will didn't elaborate on the cousin who had given him the tickets.

The black woman looked around her as surreptitiously as she could. She couldn't see any other African-Americans in the first ten rows, and they were easily the youngest couple in the front by a good twenty years. The two of them drew a fair number of stares from those around. Will chose to believe that Monique's beauty was the reason for the attention. She chose to believe otherwise.

As the lights dimmed she settled back in her seat and found it wasn't as bad as she feared. Some of the music seemed familiar, although she had never known who composed the works.

At intermission she requested a diet soda without caffeine and he left her in the lobby and moved over to the end of the line. While she waited an older woman who frequently brought her granddaughters into the store came and asked Monique what she thought of the concert. The black woman could answer, without fear of contradiction, that she'd never heard anything like it.

A younger woman, who had been in the nosebleed seats with her husband, also headed her way during intermission. "Is that really you? How did you end up with the Nob Hill crowd?"

"I think I did something bad in a former life."

The woman laughed, and asked about new lines at Club Banana.

"Oh, here comes my date," Monique apologized as she saw Will headed her way, drinks in hand.

The woman leaned closer and whispered, "Looks more like you did something good."

The second half went much like the first.

The trip home was silent. Will couldn't think of any way to start a conversation and Monique felt grateful she didn't have to engage in one. He stopped in front of her building and had his own door open before she could take off the unfamiliar seat belt and open hers. She tensed as he came around and opened the car door for her. He obviously expected a kiss at her door and she had no intention of giving or receiving one.

Will escorted her to her door, stood patiently as she found her key, then nodded politely and said, "Thank you for a wonderful evening," before heading back to his car.

She felt slightly surprised and relieved he hadn't tried to kiss her; he had escorted her to her door and nothing else. After spending all evening as the perfect gentleman he remained in character until the end. Monique felt a strong suspicion he had never kissed a girl and wouldn't have known how.

As she climbed the stairs to their apartment she reflected on the evening. There was nothing wrong with Will, but nothing right with the man either. She smiled, being treated like a princess wasn't a bad way to spend an evening. He would have probably taken her somewhere very nice if they'd gone out for dinner. She felt ashamed of herself for the thought. He had obviously spent way too much on this evening. He must be more interested in her than she felt in him. That meant he would ask her out again. He had taken her by surprise once; she would not make that mistake again. He was a perfect gentleman. Daddy would have approved. But she would be firm and clear when he called again, and Monique felt certain he would, she would not go out with him.

Momma snored quietly on a chair when Monique opened the apartment door, an open Bible on her lap.

The sound of the door startled her awake, "He didn't try to take advantage of you, did he?"

Monique was scandalized by the question, "Momma! I've probably got more experience than he does."

"Dear God, I didn't need to hear that."

"MOM! I'm just saying Will Du is total babe in the woods. The man has the social life of a Benedictine monk."

"Who are the Benedictines?"

"I don't really remember. We read something about them in Western Civ."

Mrs. Grant worked her courage to ask the question on her mind, "So, are you going out with him again?"

---

Will did not call as quickly as she expected. Monique had begun to hope he had realized the date was a mistake and decided not to call again. Will, however, had been biding his time. He waited until mid-February to call. Before calling he ambushed her with flowers on Valentine's Day.


	3. At the Loser's Table

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

This chapter reflects a scene that I cut from chapter 12 of Cognitive Dissonance.

**Chapter 3 - At the Loser's Table**

Monique arrived at Club Banana at four on February fourteenth to find that Cat already had her coat on. The manager didn't leave immediately, however, "I'm surprised you agreed to work 'til closing."

"Why?" the black woman asked, puzzled by the statement.

"Mr. Symphony."

Monique laughed, "I haven't heard from him. I think he realized that was our last date."

Cat raised an eyebrow, "Check the break room. I've never seen that many roses in a bouquet before. His opinion doesn't seem to match up with yours."

"He was here?"

"No, FTD brought them. They aren't your eight bucks for a dozen roses from the religious cult on the corner. You really aren't interested in the guy? Mrs. Jenner was in the store a few days ago, told me he was cute."

"We're women, not men. Men will date a woman with nothing in her head if she's got enough on her chest."

"So he's cute - but dumb?"

"No…" Monique hesitated. "He's not dumb. He's this really weird combination of painfully shy and pretentious. He'll bore you by not talking, then when he finally screws up his courage and opens his mouth he'll bore you by trying to make you think he's brilliant."

The manager smiled, "A pity. He shelled out good money for those flowers. I was hoping you'd bring him in some day and show him off."

"No way."

"Okay, I'm out of here. Oh, and I'm trusting you, 'Nique. Don't call me unless the police need me to come in and identify your body."

"I promise. I won't even tell them your phone number if they ask. And if the store burns--"

"--I'll find out tomorrow when I come in and don't work." They laughed at their private joke as the manager headed out for an evening on the town.

Few customers stopped by that evening, and Monique found time to call home.

Martin answered the phone, and tried to pass on a warning before handing the phone over to their mother, "She's not in a good mood, Mon, better--"

"Give me that phone, Marty," Monique heard her mother demand in the background.

"Monique!" her mother's voice boomed over the wire.

"Yes, Momma."

"You may _not_ date that young man if he asks you out again. Before I left for work this morning the florist stopped by -- with flowers for me and you."

"Flowers for you?" Monique asked, puzzled.

"Yes. I didn't know who they were from. I told them to take yours to Club Banana--"

"I wondered why they were here. Thanks."

"Don't thank me. When I saw the card I found they were from that young man."

"He sent you flowers?"

"For being your mother. Any boy working that hard to butter up a girl's mother is up to no good. I don't trust him."

Monique sighed and came to Will's defense. "I don't think he knows much, Momma. He seems like someone without a lot of experience. I get the feeling he's never had a real girlfriend and is taking just being introduced to me way too seriously."

"Girl, there are men with experience who wouldn't know to send flowers--"

"I think he said his sister told him to get me the corsage. Maybe she suggested flowers too."

She managed to calm her mother down eventually with assurances that Will seemed a morally upright individual. She wondered briefly if Will might be as devious as her mother feared, but decided against the idea. If that was an act he had no idea what appealed to women.

Monique wished Kim had not introduced them, and finally decided she needed to talk with Kim again on the subject. She wondered if her friend could tell her anything more about the curious Mr. Du.

After closing the store and depositing the receipts at the bank Monique got out her cell phone. She decided not to call Kim's cell, she suspected Kim was out with Shego and did not want to be disturbed. Instead she called the number of Kim and Bonnie's dorm room, planning to leave a message on the machine for Kim to call her. To Monique's surprise Bonnie answered the phone,

"You aren't out with someone?" the black woman asked.

"Isn't that rather obvious?" the brunette sniped.

"Sorry. I was just hoping to leave a message for Kim. Can I leave it with you or should I call back and use the machine?"

"What's the message?"

"Ask her to call me, please."

Bonnie paused a moment, "Look, she and Ron are supposed to be going over to C2K tonight, they may be there already. I'm going over there to hear what happened. You want to come along?"

"Huh? Kim and Ron at the coffee house? Where's Shego? What's happening?"

"Oh, you are so out of the loop," Bonnie laughed. "Should I look for you or not?"

"Let me call home and tell Momma not to worry. Are you heading right over? I can be there in fifteen."

Bonnie beat Monique to the coffee shop, but Tony still hadn't served her chai when the black woman arrived. "Mocha and a muffin," she told him, then settled into the booth opposite Bonnie and wiggled into a comfortable position,

"Welcome to the loser's table," Bonnie greeted her.

"Loser's table?"

"You got a date for Valentine's Day?"

"No."

"Loser."

"Hey, I didn't come here for that. What's the scoop on Kim?"

"You don't know," Bonnie smirked, "one of her best friends, and you don't know."

"Did she and Shego break up or something?"

"No such luck."

"I think you're just doing this to irritate me."

Bonnie smiled, "Maybe just a little. Truth is, I'm not really sure how it worked out so--"

"Worked out? What worked out?"

"You remember Adrena Lynn? Used to have a TV show…"

Monique nodded.

"She was going to out Kim and Shego."

"Say what?"

"Yeah, that was my thought too."

"No way! Well, I guess that pretty much shot their first Valentine's Day," Monique reflected. "How come you were in the dorm?"

Bonnie stared moodily into her cup for a minute. "Hell of a question. You know some people wonder if there's life after death? I'm starting to wonder if there's life after high school."

Monique managed to keep her mouth shut. Bonnie took advantage of the other woman's silence. "I really thought I had it all. I was like, queen of our class."

The black woman really found it hard to keep her mouth shut, but felt the other woman needed someone to listen rather than judge.

"College is just so different, so much bigger. I was the biggest fish in our little bowl but this is the ocean…"

"So, a little better sense of where you are in the world?"

"Oh, I'm still going to come out on top. I just haven't figured out how to work this stage and audience yet."

"And you couldn't get a date for tonight."

Bonnie snorted, "You either."

"I had an admirer send roses to me and my mom."

"A secret admirer?"

"Nah, that might have been more fun. Do you remember that guy who was glued to my hip at the New Year's party?"

Bonnie thought, but really hadn't paid enough attention to Monique and even less to the stranger she was with. "I can't recall."

"Well, he didn't say much. He's the one who beat Ron at eight-ball."

"Oh, him! He was sort of good looking."

"Yeah, and he's a nice guy. But you can't use the words fun and 'Will Du' in the same sentence."

Bonnie laughed appropriately and asked, "Want to hear about my classes this semester?"

After several minutes of sharing class stories cries of, "Hey, Kim!" caught their attention. Ron and Kim strolled back, arm-in-arm, with Kim throwing kisses to well-wishers in the coffee house.

When they got back to the booth Bonnie hissed, "I don't sit with dykes," when Kim tried to sit by her; and Kim moved over to sit by Monique. Bonnie noticed Kim's smile dropped when she sat down at the table, and she almost wished she had found a better way of getting Ron to sit by her.

"So, how did it go?" Bonnie demanded after the two gave their orders.

"And fill me in, please," Monique pleaded.

"I'll let Ron tell the story," Kim sighed. "But let me give Mon the background first," she told Ron.

Kim gathered her thoughts, "Shego and I had some really good plans. Really good plans. We'd have dinner at one of the private rooms at the Astor. Then we were going out to the Lair for the night. I had this incredible little naughty negligee… One for her too."

"What happened," Monique demanded, trying to get Kim to focus.

"Adrena Lynn found out somehow. I don't know how. She contacted the local station, promised them a big story, huge story, if they'd give her a camera crew for the night. Well, someone at the station contacted me, remembered the trouble she'd been in and asked me if they should work with her or not. I suspected what was happening… Shego confirmed it. Anyway, that pretty much shot down all our plans."

Ron tried to look sympathetic, "If you need to show off the sexy negligee I don't have anything planned."

Bonnie gave him a push, "I'm available."

"Tell them what happened," Kim instructed Ron.

"So, Kim and I go to the Astor. And, like every time we'd hear a noise we'd throw our arms around each other. When the door finally burst open we went for a big kiss and the camera crew was totally embarrassed for breaking up our Valentine's Day, and they apologized and paid for the whole meal and everything. I think they ran Adrena Lynn out of town on a rail or something."

"What happened to Shego?"

"She went somewhere to fake a robbery," Kim explained. "Said we shouldn't see each other today in case Adrena Lynn followed me or something. She'd let the cops chase her and it would be on the news that she was in a different state completely."

Ron and Kim's orders arrived, and Bonnie ordered another cup of chai. Monique stared at Kim, "You really look low, GF. That broke up over losing your date?"

Kim leaned back in the booth and stared vacantly at her mocha, "I don't know. Sometimes I'm losing my sense of me. There are days I don't know who I am any more."

"It's easy, Kim," Bonnie assured her, "you're a dyke."

"BONNIE!" Ron and Monique protested together.

"I had to listen to her, 'I don't know if I'm a lesbian, I just know I love a woman,' last semester. Well, what they do in bed? You're a lesbian, Kim."

"How do you know what they do in bed?" Ron demanded.

"Kim!" Monique protested, "You're not… With Bonnie in the room?"

"She came back early," the redhead protested. "You could have knocked," she shot at Bonnie.

"Knock before coming into my own room?"

"So what were they--" Ron began.

"Never mind," Bonnie snapped. "Maybe I will start knocking."

Kim took a deep breath, "Trying to figure out that part of my life is only part of the problem…" She tried to change the subject, "Maybe I should apologize to Alex Safic for the way I treated her."

"What?" Monique asked.

"None of us were very nice to her," Kim began.

"I was," Ron protested.

"Most of us girls weren't."

"Kim," Bonnie objected, "if she was a guy she'd have been kicked out of school for sexual harassment. She hit on every girl in our class."

"I still say who you love is your own business as long as you don't go around annoying other people with it."

Bonnie snorted, "You and Shego on the top bunk annoy me."

"Details," Ron demanded, "Give me details."

"Well, except for the time she came back early it's just been a little cuddling."

"Still annoying," Bonnie hissed.

Monique interrupted, "I think you're trying to change the subject," she told Kim.

The table was quiet for a minute. "Yeah, you're right," Kim admitted. She sighed, "I'm one of the good guys. She's a bad guy. When she finds Drakken again--"

Monique held her hands up in a T gesture, "Sorry, finds Drakken?"

"He's missing. Shego isn't committing any crimes now while she looks for him. What happens when she finds him? I don't want to fight her, she doesn't want to fight me."

"Can't she quit?" Bonnie asked

"I don't know. She tells me she can't quit. I don't know if she means it's not possible or if she means she doesn't want to."

"Have you asked?" Monique wanted to know.

"I haven't," Kim admitted. "I'm afraid."

"Not the KP I know and love," Ron chimed in.

"No, this is a KP suffering cognitive dissonance."

"Care to run that by me in little words, Mon?" Ron asked.

"It's what I just told you guys," Kim explained. "I want to work for Global Justice. We put bad people in jail. Shego is a bad person. I don't want to put her in jail, I want to put her in bed, with me."

"So that's cognitive dissonance. I think I'm like that a lot."

"No, Ron, you're just confused," Kim told him.

"Maybe they can demand her to your company."

"It's remand to my custody," the redhead said. "And I don't think they're going to do that."

Eventually the talk turned more general, with all four telling stories of their second semester classes.

As they talked Monique looked around at her two friends and Bonnie. How could Bonnie call this a loser's table? Actually, the black woman knew the single criteria Bonnie used, it was February fourteenth and none of them were out on dates. Kim loved a felon who didn't want to cause problems for her. According to Kim, Ron was in love with some girl in Japan. Based on Bonnie's behavior at the New Year's Eve party, and her body language now that Ron was in the booth beside her, Monique guessed she was interested in the blond man - who showed no interest in her. Monique laughed inwardly. The person Bonnie really loved was Bonnie, at least she was with her favorite person.

After reflecting on her friends she thought a little more about Will, wondering if he had tried to call her home while she was out. The silence after sending flowers was almost deafening and decidedly curious. It had been long enough since their initial meeting and their single date that the immediate pain had worn off. Maybe she would accept another invitation from him. If nothing else it would be something to rub Bonnie's nose in.

Monique did not have long to wait before hearing from Will again. When she got home the next day Marty called, "The stiff called. I told him when you'd be getting home about now. He said he'd call back in about a half hour."

She took the call on the extension in her room, with the door closed.

"I was hoping to call you last night and ask you to the opera," Will apologized. "I got called to try and stop Shego from stealing a laser guidance system."

"Um, actually Sherlock, she wasn't trying to steal it."

"Then what was she trying to do?"

"She was pretending to steal it so she wouldn't get caught."

Will could make no sense out of what Monique was saying, "So, if she didn't want to get caught -- why did she she pretend to steal the system?"

"It's a long story…"

"Can you tell it to me if we go out to the opera?"

"Look, Will, my Momma is really nervous about you. She thinks anyone who is shelling out the kind of money you are must be wanting more than I'm willing to give him."

Stunned at the charge he managed to stammer, "Look, I want nothing in the world more than the chance to go out with you again."

She gave a little laugh, "I don't know about you, Mr. Bond. You either suffer from a lack of imagination or, with a little more practice, you might develop into a real charmer."

"Can I practice on you?"

"Sorry, I don't think I want a starter relationship. Maybe I feel like I owe you for the flowers--"

"You don't owe me anything!"

"Look, you want to go out with me? Those flowers are the best thing you got going for you at the moment… Hey, if I go with you to the opera I don't want you spending a bunch of money again. How much are the tickets?"

"My cousin, the one who got the tickets for the symphony? Well, his company gets tickets to a lot of events--"

"Ever to wrestling or anything fun?"

"What?"

"Never mind. So these are freebies?"

"Yes," Will assured her.

"Okay," she sighed. "I'll go with you." Monique was clear in her own mind. He might get a date from the flowers, but that was all he would be getting. _"He's a decent guy. I need to tell him to leave me alone in person instead of over the phone."_


	4. A Night at the Opera

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. 

**Chapter 4 - A Night at the Opera**

Monique had a vague idea what to expect at the opera. She wanted another chance to be seen in her red dress, it looked good on her. She wasn't sure which would be more boring -- Will or the opera. But he treated her like a queen and that felt good. 

Guilt nagged in the back of her mind. Going out with him so she could dump him quietly at the end of the evening sounded underhanded. He was a nice guy, even if he had opened her eyes to the meaning of the word stogy. He treated her with respect, but the opera and the symphony? Mr. Du obvious suffered from weird tastes or had no clue what a young woman might want.

Will extended an invitation for dinner before the opera, but she politely declined -- suggesting however that they stop for coffee or dessert after the performance.

Her mother came into her room and fretted as Monique finished getting ready for the opera.

"I love you. You know that. And I trust you. But I don't know him. Why is he asking you out?"

Monique smiled, "Maybe its because I'm a pretty girl."

"Taking you out to fancy places? I don't trust him."

"I think I can trust him more than anyone else I've ever gone out with."

"You really like him that much?"

"No, Momma. I don't really like him. But he's a real gentleman. He's kind of shy and doesn't really know what to say. But he's got a good heart."

"So you will see him again?"

"You weren't listening, Momma," Monique laughed. "I said I really don't like him. Yes, he is a gentleman and a nice guy, but he's not what I want."

"You don't want a gentleman and a nice guy?"

Monique laughed again, "Sounds silly when you say it that way. I want someone who'll take me dancing and I can talk to, but fun. Whoever he is, I hope he'll treat me as well as Will does."

"Like spending a lot of money on you?"

"Hush, Momma. He spent way too much on that first date and those flowers. I'm only going to the opera because he got the tickets for free."

"That's what he told you anyway."

"I believe him. He seems like an honest man."

"He's honest and a gentleman -- and you won't go out with him again?"

"Momma," Monique snapped in exasperation. "You come in here to tell me not to trust the man, and that I shouldn't go out with him again. And I tell you I don't plan to see him again. And now I hear you saying I should see him again."

"The first thing you ever told me about Will was that your daddy would have liked him. If you really think that, and he is a nice guy, I'm just saying--"

"Tell me, what did you think when you first met daddy?"

"You know that old story."

"Course I know it. Now tell me again. What did you think the first time you met daddy?"

"Well, my heart was beatin' so loud it was a little hard to tell what I was thinking. But I believe it was something along the lines of, 'That's the man I'm going to marry'."

"Momma, when I met Will my heart was telling me, 'I just have to put up with him for this party and I never have to see him again'."

"Well, fast doesn't always mean right. It took your daddy months to realize I was the woman for him. And your Uncle Jack knows 'she is the right woman' every time. I can't believe how many have been fool enough to believe that line."

Will arrived, as expected, exactly on time. Monique glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall as she answered the door, "Momma, the kitchen clock is slow."

Monique smiled as she saw the older car parked at the curb, "Now, isn't that more honest?" she smiled.

Will gritted his teeth and said nothing. He'd traded the Beemer for the evening with a man who worked for his cousin the banker. He hoped it came back without any dents.

"Thank you," she told him warmly as he opened the car door for her.

On the drive to the Upperton opera house she asked about his week and quickly regretted the question. Kim could make rescuing a cat from a tree into an interesting story. Will made pursuit of Shego sound boring. And his primary project, tracing a criminal group working across several borders in Central America, made the attempt to arrest Shego sound fun.

"It's not as exciting as it looks in the movies and on television, is it?" Monique asked when he paused to breathe.

"No one appreciates the importance of procedures and paperwork. You need to verify that everything has been done, and done according to the law. You can't just go halfway around the world and beat up someone because you don't like the colors on their national soccer team."

"I suppose not, but it would make a better movie."

Maybe it was listening to Will on the drive over. Perhaps it was the plot of Aida, but the black woman found herself enjoying the opera far more than she would have dreamed possible. She devoured the opera notes between acts, and not simply to avoid talking with the man beside her.

At the end, as they waited for enough people to leave to make their own exit possible, Monique teased, "I don't know much about opera, but I thought it wasn't supposed to be over until the fat lady sings."

Will smiled, "Those are Wagner's operas. Aida isn't over until the Ethiopian princess dies."

"That's a really rotten ending. It's so sad."

"How about Romeo and Juliet, did you want that one to end with them alive?"

"Well, yeah."

"Not how it works," Will argued. "People want tragedy. Makes their own lives seem happier in comparison."

"Let's continue this conversation over coffee, I think we can get out now."

Back at the car Monique asked a different question as he opened the car door for her, "Tell me, Mr. Bond, do you really like this opera stuff?"

He thought for a minute as he moved to his side of the car and got in. "Yeah, I guess so. My mother always dragged me along with her. I was usually the youngest person there. She said it would be good for me, expose me to culture and teach me to sit still with my mouth shut." Monique smiled as he continued, "I think I hated it for a several years. I wanted to watch and listen to other things. But over time I came to realize this is good music. Great music. It's been around for more than a hundred years and still moves people. Do you think people will know who Batina and N.C. Honey are in a hundred years?"

Monique laughed, "You are positively a young fossil. And it appears to me that you don't even know who Britina and M.C. Honey are now."

Will fell silent. He didn't like to have anyone hear him make a mistake.

"If it makes you feel any better," she told him, "I think Britina had already fallen into nowhere."

Changing the subject he asked where she might like to stop for a minute on their way home.

"Stop anyplace where it looks like we could talk. I have a coffee shop I really like in Middleton, but we can't go there."

"Why not?"

"You want to risk running into Kim and Shego?"

"No," he said quickly.

"What's your problem with them, Sherlock?"

He hesitated. "I like Miss Possible, but two women just seems… I don't like to sound like… I think it's wrong."

"Seems a little weird to me too."

"And Shego is a criminal. Kim should be trying to arrest her."

"Yeah, Kim's got a lot of inner struggle going on right now."

They spotted a Greek diner on the edge of Upperton and ordered coffee and pie.

The waitress looked at them curiously, and Monique accepted it was because they were the only people in formal attire there. They talked around a half hour before Monique worked up the courage to say, "You know, Will, there is no point in you asking me out again."

He looked thunderstruck, "Why not?"

She looked through the reasons listed in her mind, but some sounded too petty or shallow, so she went with what she hoped would be an easy excuse and laid her hand down beside his on the table, "That really doesn't bother you at all?"

He paused only a heartbeat before answering, "I don't think so."

"Really?" her tone of voice suggested her doubts.

"I grew up being told it shouldn't matter. I believe that."

"Believing in your head and feeling with your heart aren't always the same. Tell me, how many of 'us' do you really know?"

"Well, several of the servants when I was growing up--"

"Several of the servants?" She decided maybe she didn't need to worry about him spending so much.

"Yes, but I--"

"Look, maybe this is just symptomatic of the problem rather than being the problem. I think our tastes are just too different for us to ever be happy with each other. I'm sorry, Will. You're a nice guy. You'll make some girl very happy, but not me."

He stared off into space, wanting to plead with her but not knowing what to say. "No way?" he finally managed.

"No way," she assured him.

"You really didn't like either of our dates?"

She hesitated, "Okay, I'm being honest with you. Aida was a whole lot more fun than I expected." He started to smile, but she brought him up short, "But I expected it to be so bad I'd gnaw my leg off to get out of the trap. You really enjoyed tonight?"

He looked into her eyes, "It was the most I've enjoyed an evening in my life."

She sighed, knowing he wasn't talking about the opera. "Look, Will. I don't like the things you enjoy. You wouldn't enjoy the things I like."

"You don't know that!"

"I'm trying to be honest with you. Look, next Saturday night they've got a group playing at the Onion--"

"The Onion?"

"Sorry, the Middleton U Student Union. Anyway, I know you've never heard of them but I've got their CD, fun music -- good for dancing. You want to come hang with me, be my guest?"

"I'd love to."

"No, Sherlock, you won't. You'll be miserable."

He smiled, "I don't think I could be miserable with you."

From anyone else it would have been insincere flattery. She believed he really meant what he said. She reminded herself she was doing this for his own good, she had to make him realize there was no point in their seeing each other.

When they got back to her apartment she waited as he came around and opened the car door for her. He escorted her to the front door and stood, watching as she found her key. Monique felt an attack of pre-guilt for the pain she would put him through. "You don't need to come with me to the Onion next Saturday."

"I want to," he assured her as she opened the door and went in.

She kicked herself mentally as she went up the stairs, _"This is not the way to say thank-you to a guy who has been nothing but nice to me."_


	5. A Gift Horse in the Mouth

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names are property of their respective owners.

**Chapter 5 - A Gift Horse in the Mouth**

Between customers Monique sketched her plans to Catherine Tyler. "I'm really disappointed in you, 'Nique. That isn't honest."

"He's forcing me, Cat," the black woman insisted. "I wouldn't be doing this if he took 'no' for an answer."

"It's still a dirty trick."

"Yeah, I know," she mumbled. Monique didn't have more time for reflection as the high school crowd descended on Club Banana.

When things began to slow down the manager recalled the conversation, "Are you wanting me to grant you absolution for your sins by telling me that?"

"No. I guess I kind of wanted to know if it sounded as rotten to you as it sounds to me."

"Uh-huh. Hey, would you consider trying to set him up with someone? At least if you're going to dump him hard you can have someone catch him on the rebound."

"You think I'm evil?"

"Just saying that a soft landing might be nicer for the guy. Know anyone who needs a fellow? What about your friend Kim?"

"I, ah, don't think Kim is a good idea."

"Oh yeah, she and Ron are a steady item," Cat reflected.

"Well, I'm not sure about that," Monique commented. "But she was the one who introduced Will to me and I'm positive she doesn't want him regifted back."

After supper Marty left to shoot baskets at the Community Center and Colin was allowed an hour of television before going to bed. Monique stayed in the kitchen to help her mother clean up after dinner. The older woman shook her head in amazement as Monique explained her idea, "And you accused me of being inconsistent."

"What do you mean, Momma? I've always said I didn't want to go out with him."

"But you only went out that first time because he tricked you into it, and you told me you'd never be out with him again. Then you accepted the second invitation -- no tricks. And you told me you'd never see him again. So, now you're taking him to a dance at Middleton U just so you'll never see him again."

"You're being mean. Cat says I'm a rotten person for what I'm planning."

"Maybe she's right. But I'm waiting to see if you really can say 'no' to him."

"You're worse than Cat!" Monique complained.

Doubts continued to assail the young woman as she lay in bed that night. Maybe Cat's idea was a good one, if she could find some girl to introduce to Will, someone more appropriate, she would be doing them both a favor. _"No,"_ Monique reflected, _"I'll be doing all three of us a favor."_ A name popped into her head, but she looked at the clock and decided against the call. _"I'll phone her tomorrow."_

Monique didn't want to leave a message on the answering machine the next day. Five times she hung up when the machine picked up. Finally, at four, she heard a grumpy, "Hello," from the other end.

"Bonnie? This is Monique--"

"Kim isn't here."

"Good, I was wanting to talk with you?"

"With me?" In a dorm room on the Middleton campus Bonnie's eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"I told you on Valentine's Day that I'd gotten flowers from Will Du?"

"Yes," Bonnie said slowly, looking for a trap.

"Well, can I introduce you to him? He's a really nice guy?"

"Look, I don't take other girl's rejects. What's his problem?"

"He's a little stiff, but he's willing to spend money on a date. And with you being in theater I thought you--"

"Whoa, what does my being in theater have to do with anything?"

"Well, he took me to Aida on our second date, and--"

"Aida? At the Upperton Opera House?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, man," Bonnie sighed, "I'd have given Shego's left nut to see that."

"Can you cut out stuff like that when you talk with him? He's pretty clean-cut."

"Real fuddy-duddy, huh?"

"Well, truth in advertising says I got to tell you yes, but he is a nice guy."

"Hmm, what's the plan for the handoff? I need you to introduce us. You hang around for a while. If I like what I see I'll turn on the old Rockwaller charm and he's off your back for good."

"You do have an awfully high opinion of yourself."

"Ha! I could take a guy from you without breaking a sweat," Bonnie boasted.

Monique didn't want a fight with Bonnie. The theater major wanted a boy friend. Will needed a girl friend. Obviously the two were perfect for each other.

"I'll have him at the Union for the concert this weekend about nine. You stop by about nine-thirty. How long will it take you to decide he's a keeper and to get your claws in him?"

Bonnie did some fast calculations, "I figure about half an hour of chat to figure out if he's interesting. If I want him you can leave about ten minutes after I start to flirt -- he probably won't even notice you're gone."

Monique ground her teeth together; talking to Bonnie was not good for her dental health. _ "Will could have spared himself this if he'd just taken 'no' for an answer."_ "Sounds like a plan, girl, TTFN."

Will felt nervous about the weekend, beyond that normal nervousness which accompanies a person's first efforts at dating. He had not yet encountered a problem that couldn't be solved with sufficient effort and the occasional application of his financial resources. His first efforts to impress Monique appeared to have failed, and self-analysis still hadn't uncovered the reason. She essentially told him that the invitation to a concert at the college represented a trap which she expected him to fail, and fail miserably. On a theoretical level the trap added an element of excitement, he had to find and defuse the situation to demonstrate his capabilities to Monique. On a practical level he chewed some antacids to quiet his stomach. She planned to use his failure as an excuse to keep from seeing him again. The date took on an importance which dwarfed any mission he could remember.

Since they were going to the university student union he needed something collegiate, something Ivy League. Will took an hour of personal leave along with lunch for a fitting at Brooks Brothers.

"It will be ready for you next Tuesday," the tailor told him as he finished making the notes for the alterations.

"I require it this weekend," Will explained.

"Rush order is an extra fifty dollars."

"No problem," Will assured him.

"Thursday be soon enough?"

"It will be perfect. I'll pick them up between noon and one."

Monique's mom insisted on annoying her daughter as the young woman got ready for the concert. "You're dressing very well for a man you say you don't want to see," she teased.

"I'm not dressing for him," Mon insisted. "I'm dressing for the store -- a lot of people on campus know I work there. It's bad for business if I don't look good. I'm dressing for me -- I like to look good. And I'm dressing for all the hot and interesting guys who will be there. I've been looking forward to this since I saw it on the campus calendar last November. And I'm not gonna let you, or Will, or anyone else ruin it for me."

Monique's mother made it a point to be the one to buzz Will into the building and to open the apartment door for him. At least to her face he seemed a terribly polite young man. And he certainly tried to dress well.

Mrs. Grant chatted with Will while Monique finished getting ready. She wondered what Monique didn't see in him, but trusted her daughter had a reason for her feelings.

Monique groaned when she emerged from her room and saw him, "You're wearing a suit?"

"No," he insisted. The sharply creased flannel trousers didn't match the material of the jacket - he wore a sport coat.

"They were made for each other. It's a suit. And I'll bet it's Brooks Brothers let me look down your shirt."

"What!" Will and her mom exclaimed together.

"Bend your head, Will. I'm going to look at the label on the collar."

"You don't have to do this," he said. He leaned forward and she turned his collar, "it is Brooks Brothers,"

She smiled at being right, "You know, Middleton U is not Yale."

"Or even Princeton," he muttered as he straightened up.

"What is Brooks Brothers?" her mother asked.

"Outfitters for skinny WASPs."

Monique began a tally in her head. He didn't know how to dress for the occasion. Will took his first strike.

He listened well as they rode over, and he asked questions that showed he was listening to her. If her mood had allowed it she would have given him a point for trying.

They arrived at the student union and Monique showed her student ID to get the two of them in. Once inside they looked around for a place to sit.

Will found a deep sense of satisfaction in the fact, "I am the best dressed man here."

"Uh-huh. And you are drawing attention to yourself by being dressed so much differently from everyone else. Tell me, Sherlock, do you overdress for undercover assignments?"

"I, ah, haven't been offered any undercover assignments."

Monique raised one eyebrow, "If you're curious about why I can probably suggest why it hasn't happened." Clueless about how he fit into a group, or failed to fit. Monique called strike two on him.

"Never mind," he muttered.

Every place a person could sit near The Pit, where the band was playing, had been taken. While Monique would have enjoyed sitting closer to the speakers a location a little further away offered a better chance for Bonnie to talk with Will.

They found tables and chairs still open at the food court. She noticed a smug grin on his face as he held her chair for her. "Okay, why are you so happy Mr. Bond?"

"I've observed sixteen mixed-race couples since our arrival. While I can not ascertain what their actual relationships I will mention that I have excluded same sex couples from my tabulation and at least some of them might be in relationships which would justify their inclusion in the total count."

"No call for you to feel smug. I'd say that the fact you counted tells me it is something you are very much aware of, despite your denial last week."

"Ah, but I took notice merely because a woman whose opinion I find important told me that mixed race represents an overwhelming impediment to a relationship. And on my cursory observation I detected no hostility directed towards the couples here."

"Well, that's the sort of thing you're less likely to notice here on campus. Heck, some of these people regard mixed race couples as heroes. Get away from campus and it won't always be as friendly."

He looked irritatingly smug as he answered, "It still provides evidence that race has become a less important issue in terms of interpersonal relationships in the modern United States."

"Okay, I'll allow it is less important today," she admitted. "But I don't recall saying it was the only reason." Will took a ball. The count was one and two.

Will decided to back slowly away from the topic before he got hurt. "Is this building really called the Onion?"

She laughed, he loved to hear the sound of her laughter, "What does 'really' mean? The administration put the name of some big donor on the side of the building, but it took them seven years to find someone with enough money to get the name. Students started calling it the Onion before it had a 'real' name, and haven't stopped calling it the Onion in the five years since it got one."

They both kept the conversation within safe parameters. He searched their conversation for the trap she had prepared for him. She searched the room and waited for Bonnie to appear.

When the brunette finally appeared Monique waved, "Oh, here's a friend of mine," she lied to him.

Bonnie chose to play the scene as running into them by accident as Monique made introductions, "You two were both at Kim's party, but I don't know if you really talked. Bonnie, this is Will Du. He works for Global Justice." She paused and turned to Will, "Am I allowed to tell her that?"

"No. Why don't you just put a sign on my front, 'Works for international intelligence and law enforcement' - then hang a target on my back."

"Then what am I supposed to tell someone, 'Hi, this is Will Du - he sells drugs out of the trunk of his car.'?"

Bonnie tried to remember him from the party. "Global Justice… Does he know about Kim and…?"

"Yes," Monique told her.

"Kim and who?" Will asked.

"Shego," Monique whispered. "Try to not hang a sign around her neck." The black woman raised her voice to normal conversational tones, "Will, this is Bonnie Rockwaller. She is Kim's dorm mate."

"Kim's dorm mate? Does that mean she's…"

"What?" Monique asked.

"NO I'M NOT!" Bonnie insisted.

"What?" Monique asked again.

"A dyke," Bonnie whispered. "This is why I want Kim to stay in the closet. She's bad for my reputation."

"Pull up a chair and join us," Monique invited. The black woman crossed her fingers. She noted that Bonnie had arrived exactly on time. If they shared the same obsessive compulsive disorder maybe it would provide them with something else to talk about. Monique felt like he tried to talk with Bonnie, but he didn't forget he arrived with Monique and paid more attention to her. She gave him another ball, but knew he wouldn't be getting to first base.

Bonnie, however, grew disgusted with the way he failed to fawn on her and took herself out of the game. "Well," she yawned, "I have to get up early. Catch you later."

"What about?" Monique whispered quietly and jerked her head towards Will.

"Your problem, not mine," Bonnie replied in a whisper as she rose from the table and headed away from the food court.

"She seems like a nice girl," Will commented politely after the brunette left. He nearly took his third strike right there, but Monique knew it wouldn't be fair.

Monique had really hoped to spare him from the humiliation, but with Bonnie gone she felt like she had no other choice. She stood up and took him by the hand, "Let's dance."

Will's eyes went wide, but he cursed himself inwardly for not seeing it coming. There was no way out. He could turn her down, and condemn himself for his unwillingness to try and have fun. Or, he could go out and make a total ass of himself. "Sure," he mumbled, standing up. _"How hard can it be? I'll just copy what the other people are doing."_

_"I'm sorry, Will, but I have to publicly humiliate you so badly you're going to hate me. I don't want anyone to hate me, but it's the only way you're going to learn."_

She led him towards the small dance floor in The Pit. The music grew louder as they pushed their way through the audience, which grew thicker as they proceeded. The volume made it hard for Will to think. Monique noticed Bonnie dancing with some guy from the football team and Mon shot her a look of disgust. Monique considered mouthing a word at the brunette she would not have said out loud, but held her tongue. Bonnie saw Monique and Will pushing through the crowd and smiled at the black woman and nodded slightly towards the hunk she was dancing with.

His attempts at dancing were even worse than Monique expected. His clothes drew attention to him as they found a place on the floor, and as he flailed and jerked wildly the giggles started. Will gritted his teeth and tried his best. There was now something of a crowd around them, watching instead of dancing and he didn't even have a model to look for. He blushed crimson, but kept trying. The laughter grew louder, until Monique couldn't take it any more. She felt terrible about the level of success she had achieved.

"Let's go," she told him.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea to let them out. They picked up their coats and headed to his car.

She had humiliated him in front of a crowd, a man who clearly hated to be held up for public ridicule. Monique expected him to yell at her, she deserved it for that stunt. Instead, to her infinite surprise as he held the car door open for her he said, "I apologize for embarrassing you."

Monique attempted to process his comment as he walked around and got behind the wheel. "You're supposed to be mad at me," she told him.

"I am?"

"I treated you like dirt tonight. I knew you wouldn't be able to dance. I knew you wouldn't be able to handle a dance at the university. I embarrassed you on purpose."

"I thought you were just teaching me a lesson for not consulting you as to your wishes when I invited you to the symphony and opera."

"No, Will. I was trying to hurt your feelings. I… I don't like admitting that, but that was what I was trying to do. I didn't think it was going to be that bad."

"I'll admit I felt terrible. But I also knew I'd probably never see those people again. You'll have to. Being able to dance is that important to you?"

"Yes… No. I think it's more of an example of why we don't make sense. I have my tastes and the things I like to do. You have your tastes and the things you like to do. Talking with you… The couple times we've been out… I wanted you to see that too. I wanted you to be mad at me for treating you poorly."

He gave her a little half smile, "Well, you only had a partial success. I didn't enjoy the evening, but I'm not sure you did either. And I'm not mad. But if you'd do that just to teach me a lesson I may need to accept you don't want to see me."

Monique felt even worse than when they'd left the union. She'd tried to hurt his feelings, and his only concern had been for hers. She didn't know what to say. There was a long pause in the car before she could speak again. "Will, you are going to make some woman so happy… I want to help you…" Monique froze in mid-speech.

"Is something wrong?"

"Give me a minute to think. I was about to say something you might misinterpret. Can you drive me home? Let me think about what I want to say along the way."

"We could stop for dessert and talk," he suggested. "If you really aren't mad at me."

"Right now I really am mad, but only at me. For the way I treated you tonight I feel like something that lives under a rock."

They drove in silence. Parked outside her apartment she asked, "Can we talk for a little while? I'm going to make a proposition to you. But I will only make it if you agree to one condition."

"And what is the condition?"

She took a deep breath. "Will, I want you to accept that even though you're a nice guy I'm just not interested in dating you. At the moment I don't feel like I'm good enough to date you. But even when the guilt wears off… Sorry, I'm wandering. Can you accept I don't believe we should date?"

"And this is a provisional condition before some other suggestion you are going to make? I want to know what else you plan to say before I accept this."

"It doesn't matter what else I'm going to say. We are not going to date. You have to accept that. I do not want a romantic relationship with you. If you think that's going to happen you'll hear what I'm about to suggest and not understand me. And later you'll accuse me of leading you on. I won't… Look, Will, I want to help you. But I don't want to date you. You have to be clear on that. I can't see you again if you regard it as a date. I don't want to lead you on. But I want you to be ready when you meet the right girl. You've got so much to offer, if you can just get a couple of the rough edges knocked off you." Monique realized she'd been rambling while Will stared at her. "Are you going to say something?"

"I'm still not certain I understand you. You've made it painfully clear you won't date me. But it sounds like if I tell you I accept that as a fact you have some other sort of proposition - which you won't tell me unless I promise to accept the fact you won't see me. I'm not sure that makes sense."

Monique took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yeah. You're right. It doesn't make sense… Look, you are a good guy. Forgive me if this sounds insulting, but I just think you need a little help in a few areas, like wardrobe and maybe a couple dancing lessons so you don't come off like such a stiff. And you need to sound like a normal human being. I'm not sure I can help you with that last one. Maybe I'm shallow, but that really put me off you from the start. Maybe I'm so rude and shallow you don't want to me seen with me, but I think I could help you get ready for the next girl you want to ask out."

Will reflected on the choice offered him. The girl he wanted to go out with told him she would not date him, period. But if he told her he accepted they would never date he could see her at least a few more times. He hoped he might be able to change her mind, but hated saying the words, "Okay, I accept you won't date me."

Mon smiled, "Thanks. I really want to do something to make it up to you for tonight. When would be a good day to talk about your wardrobe? Can I give you my cell phone number? I'd prefer you call me directly rather than leaving a message at the apartment."

She thought she detected a note of sadness in him as he came around and opened her car door and escorted her to the apartment door. She though to telling him, "It's better this way. You'll thank me someday," but knew it would sound hollow. She wanted to strangle Bonnie for running out on her.

She'd show Bonnie, Monique thought to herself as she climbed the stairs. _ "When I'm through with him Bonnie will beg for a date with him."_ Then an even better idea struck, _"No, when I'm done with Will he'll be way too good for Bonnie. If she begs for a date he'll just ignore her."_


	6. Pygmalion

Boilerplate Disclaimer: Disney owns all the various characters from the Kim Possible series. Any registered trade names property of their respective owners.

**Chapter 6 - Pygmalion**

Monique remained firm on one point as she talked with Will on the phone, "I am not coming over to look through your closet. You're going to describe your wardrobe to me."

"Well, mostly I wear my Global Justice uniforms--"

"Uniforms don't count. They're a given for work. When you're not working… Was that tux made for you?"

"Yes, it was."

"Why does any man need to own a tuxedo?"

"The family weddings and coming out parties are usually formal."

Monique shook her head, unable to understand that level of formal dress. "Casual, give me an idea of your casual wardrobe."

"I've got some old jeans and t-shirts that I wear when I go out sailing."

"Okay, on the bottom we've got blue jeans and t-shirts, on the top we've got a tuxedo. What do you have in between?"

"Suits for church."

"Okay, what else? What goes between suits and slob?" His reluctance to answer spoke volumes.

"Okay," she switched tactics. "You're a man, living on your own. When was the last time you bought clothes for yourself?"

"When we went to your student union."

"Sorry, Sherlock, I think you were buying those for me."

"You would look fetching in them."

Monique laughed. Since Will had agreed they weren't dating she felt no pressure. He wasn't a bad guy, he just wasn't right for her. Now that he knew her feelings she could relax and talk like a friend. "Seriously, Will, if you were going to take a girl to the mall, or a movie, out to eat at a casual restaurant, bowling--"

"Bowling? You like to bowl?"

"That was just an example. I'm asking; if you were going to take a girl somewhere other than a formal event, do you have clothes to wear?"

"Answer my bowling question first."

She laughed again, "I'm glad I'm not dating you. You are annoying. I don't bowl often, but Daddy used to take us. I still like to bowl a little. You will _not_ tell Kim or Ron about that or I'll never talk with you again. Got that?"

"Perfectly clear. Are you any good?

"Drop it, Mr. Bond, the subject is not how I look in bowling shoes. The subject is whether you have the closet to impress Miss Right when you meet her. And?"

Will drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "And the answer is the only times I meet girls are when my sister introduces me at weddings or coming out parties, and I don't ever see them again."

"Can I take you shopping?"

"Take me shopping," he asked, puzzled. "For what?"

"For clothes! Haven't you been listening while I talked with you? Honestly, Sherlock, I think you're practicing to be a husband. In the dating period you're supposed to be listening to her."

"Ah yes, but we aren't dating."

Monique chuckled. "There is hope for you. Now, I'm not scheduled to work either Wednesday or Thursday this week. Could you make it to Middleton either day for Club Banana?"

"Thursday sounds good. What time?"

"My last class is out at four, so pick me up, my place, anytime after four-thirty."

"It's a… It's an appointment," he told her.

Monique felt nervous during her class on Thursday. She had warned Catherine Tyler she'd be bringing Mr. Symphony by and begged the manager not to embarrass either her or him. Cat, of course, had sworn to be perfectly professional and Monique felt certain Cat lied.

She hoped to be out of the house on Thursday before her mother got off work, but still had to tell Momma about her plans so she wouldn't worry. Monique looked forward to not seeing Will any more just so she would not longer have to put up with her mother's teasing.

"I warned you, 'Nique. I told you that you couldn't make him take 'no' for an answer."

"He took 'no' for an answer Momma! We're not dating. I just feel sorry for the moop and want to give him a few pointers so he can make the next girl happy."

"Just going to educate him a little for his own good, huh?"

"Exactly."

"Sort of Professor Monique Higgins and Will Dulittle?"

"What's that?"

"Never mind, dear. You have my permission to not go out and have a perfectly wretched time with the young man you're not dating."

Marty was watching Colin when Monique got home from class. "Can you take over, Sis? I want to go down to the Center and shoot hoops."

"Sorry, I'm taking Will shopping."

"Say what?"

"Don't you start on me too."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good, 'cause I want to change clothes before he gets here."

"You're changing clothes before you go out shopping, with a guy you aren't even dating?"

"You're starting on me! I warned you, don't go starting on me," Monique threatened before storming into her room.

Monique dressed fast, and when Will rang the bell from downstairs she left the apartment rather than buzzing him into the building.

"What's that?" She asked when she saw Will standing by the security door.

"Global Justice uniform. I flew here directly after work."

"Well, I'll have you out of it soon enough." Monique regretted the words as soon as they left her lips, but Will either missed it or politely pretended not to hear what she said.

The Beemer was back at the curb. "Is this really yours?"

"Yes. I left it at my cousin's when I hoped to date you. I guess I should drive it back."

She had a small case of the jitters as she reached the curb. Would he open the car door for her? Should she complain if he did? She needed an answer to that because he quickly stepped forward and opened the door.

He noticed her hesitation; "I was raised to always open a door for a woman. I hope you don't find it too sexist."

She smiled at him, "I think I can live with being treated like a lady."

Monique gave him directions to the mall as they drove out of her neighborhood. "I don't know what you plan to spend," she told him, "but with my employee discount we can make it go further. What kind of a budget do you have in mind?"

"Would somewhere between two and three thousand be adequate?"

"Between two and three thousand _dollars_?"

"Yes. I could probably spend more if you believe it advisable."

"You can afford to drop a couple thousand on clothes and think nothing of it?" she asked in astonishment.

He nodded. Monique remained silent. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Don't ever tell me how much money you have. I may feel bad I won't date you."

"Really?"

"No."

Catherine Tyler had kept the two employees busy so she could be free when Monique arrived. As soon as the black woman appeared the manager gave her a big wave, "Bring him over here!"

"So, this is the famous Mr. Symphony?" Cat asked when they reached her.

Will looked puzzled, "Mr. Symphony?"

"This is him," Monique confirmed.

"She's never given us your name," Cat told Will. "I think she's terribly sly. Or maybe she's afraid I'll try to steal you from her and wants to keep you all to herself."

_"Cat!"_ Monique hissed angrily.

The manager pinched his cheek, "I can see why she's jealous. Even if you don't have a name you're perfectly gorgeous."

"I can take my business elsewhere," Monique warned her boss. "And his name is William Du. He answers to Will."

The manager stuck out her hand, "Catherine Tyler, I answer to Cat. Monique sometimes pretends she works here. What do you do, Will?"

"I sell drugs out of the trunk of my car."

Monique rolled her eyes, "That's my line."

"Your line?"

"Will, ah, writes a lot of reports at his job. He, um, makes it sound so dull that I threatened to say he sold drugs next time I had to make an introduction."

The manager looked him over, "Well, he doesn't look like he's getting fat from sitting behind a desk."

"I make extensive use of the company gym."

"And what company--" Cat began, eyeing his uniform.

"Look," Monique interrupted. "He's here to work on wardrobe and plans to buy a lot. Can we get started?"

The manager sighed, and turned to Will, "She's a terribly serious young lady. Always puts business before pleasure. I think you should have some pleasure at the beginning, do some business, and then maybe a little extra pleasure at the end."

_"Cat!"_ the black woman hissed again.

Cat patted Will on the hand and took a confiding tone. "I remember when she used to have a sense of humor. They grow old so fast."

"Catherine, please. I just want a little help here. You're better at reading colors than I am. What do you think would work well on him? I can't get a fix on what to recommend."

The use of her real name reminded the manager that Monique didn't want to be teased. She studied Will thoroughly. "Hmm, I don't think your problem is poor reading," she told the assistant manager.

"Would you mind my observation that I have no idea what you're talking about," Will asked.

"Different people look different in different colors." Monique explained, "I think you're an autumn, but I'm not sure."

He felt confused, "Is it bad you're not sure?"

"No, it's not," Cat assured him. "And I think she's right. You'll look good in earth tones, but I think we might consider a little spring, or summer for you. Now, why don't you look around for what you like while 'Nique and I pick out what's best for you to try on."

As he looked at deerskin moccasins, Cat asked Monique, "Do you know what he's thinking of spending?"

"He mentioned a couple grand."

The manager let out a low whistle, "Oh, we're going to have fun this afternoon."

The two women pretty much filled a dressing room until there was barely room to move before shoving Will in.

Cat grabbed two chairs from the break room and set them up near the dressing room. She motioned Monique to take one and she sat in the other. "Come out when you're ready," she called in to Will.

"Slacks are good," Cat commented as he modeled the first outfit.

"Shirt doesn't work with it," Monique added.

"Maybe in dark heather?"

"That might look good."

Will astutely sensed they didn't need his opinion.

"Turn around," Cat called to him. Will followed orders. "Again, slower," she requested. "I want to make sure the slacks fit right." Will followed orders again. "Okay, this time just a hundred and eighty degrees, then flex."

"Flex?" he asked.

"Your butt." The manager turned to Monique, "He's got cute buns."

"Don't turn, Will." Mon gently slapped Cat's arm, "Stop that," she hissed, "you'll embarrass him."

"You haven't told him yet?"

Will retreated to the dressing room.

"I'm a professional," the manager called. "I look at dozens of butts every day."

Monique eventually coaxed him out to model more outfits.

Because of the number of outfits Will tried on other customers came over to watch.

"I'd like my husband in that," one woman commented. "Does it come in burnt umber?

A minute later another woman mentioned, "I'm bringing my boy friend in for that shirt. I want it in cornflower."

An older woman complimented Catherine for being innovative. "Bringing in a live model shows off the clothes so much better than a catalog. Will you have a woman modeling soon?"

"Oh, it was my assistant manager's idea," Catherine said, pointing to Monique. "Do you want a turn on the runway when your boyfriend is done, 'Nique?"

"He's not my boyfriend," she whispered and sank lower on her chair.

Even later a spectator commented, "I want one of those."

"The shirt, sweater, or pants," Cat asked.

"The guy," she giggled.

The show lasted more than two hours, then Monique helped him sort what he would be buying. "Will, are you ready for a pop quiz?"

"Pop quiz?"

"After you pay for this I'm taking you to the food court. It's after seven and I haven't had a thing to eat since a tiny lunch."

"You're taking me?"

"We're not dating. You were a good sport in here. Pick out an outfit and put it on--"

"Before paying?"

"Bring the tags up - or let Cat scan your tags while you're wearing them. She won't mind at all. And if I think you did a good job getting dressed for mall cruising I might buy you dessert."

"And if I fail to achieve the proper level of attire? Does it become my responsibility to buy dessert?"

"No, 'cause I think you'd mess up on purpose. No dessert for either of us if you can't get it right."

Later Monique told him, "Let me help you carry some of those," as he struggled to carry the bags.

When they reached the food court she parked him and his purchases at a table, "I'll pick up something for us. Another pop quiz. You're with a girl at a mall food court. From the grease family on the food pyramid we have the burger place, Chinese place, and pizza. From the dried out under the heat lamp family we have Chicken-on-a-Stick. The inappropriate for dinner and high in sodium family gives us Pickle-on-a-Pike, while the inappropriate and sugar family gives us Cinnabon, Brownies-R-Us, and All Things Cookie. We've got faux Thai, and faux Mexican, but we've got no place with finger bowls for the tuxedo crowd. There are also soft pretzels at the juice stand. What do you do, Sherlock?"

Will looked puzzled, and Monique began to perform the theme music from Jeopardy. When she finished the jingle she demanded, "Well?"

"Ah, the Chicken-on-a-Stick for its relatively superior nutrition to grease ratio?"

"Hmm, not bad, but BZZZZ! Wrong answer."

"Well you didn't give me proper time to analyze the data!"

"Not about data crunching, Mr. Bond. You turn to her and ask, 'what sounds good to you?' if you want full marks. Now, I'm buying. What sounds good to you?"

"I've not visited Middleton Mall. What do you recommend?"

She smiled at him, "Not bad, Will. I'll give you a half point for learning fast. I'd love a slice of pepperoni with a large diet cola. Their sausage comes highly recommended, and some folk like their mushroom or plain cheese."

"I'll have a slice of the pepperoni also."

"To drink?"

"Iced tea, if they have it, or water. I've got to watch my figure now that I'm a model."

She laughed and told him to stay while she joined the pizza line.

Monique glanced back to the table as she got to the head of the line, and found Ron had joined Will at the table. She didn't want Kim to hear that she was at the mall with Will, the redhead was bound to take it the wrong way. She decided the best approach was to treat the subject lightly and trust Ron to forget bumping into them. Asking him not to say anything to Kim invited trouble.

"Thanks, Mon," Ron grinned as she slid a slice to him. "You're here with Will?"

"Just as shopping consultant," she assured him.

The blond man was stunned, "All those bags really are his?"

"He appeared incapable of comprehending the concept when I explained it to him," Will told Monique.

"Guys don't buy out the store," Ron mumbled. "They always leave something behind for the next guy."

"We didn't buy out the store," Monique assured him. "There's plenty left if you decide to leave slob fashion behind and look presentable."

"Nah, I'm real comfortable being me. I think I make a better Ron Stoppable than anyone else in the world."

"I doubt if you faced much competition for the role," Will remarked dryly.

"Touchy, Mr. Du."

"I think you mean 'touché' Ron."

"Probably, Mon, I never got high scores in German. Hey, you doing anything special for spring break?"

"Depends on what you call special. Thirty hours more work at Club Banana and getting a start on three papers sound special to you?" He shook his head no. "What do you have planned?" she asked.

"Just got a call from Kim. I'm going to China with her and Shego."

Ron finished his slice of pizza, "Hate to eat and run, but I got to eat and run," he told them as he headed out.

Monique breathed a sigh of relief as Ron disappeared; her being there with Will didn't appear to have left a deep impression. She looked over at the Global Justice agent, "How was the shopping? As bad as you feared?"

"Possibly worse, but at least the company was pleasant--"

"Cat can be charming when she wants to be."

_"I wasn't thinking about her."_ "And I have not yet decided whether I should be flattered or insulted with the news I have 'nice buns'."

"I'll talk to her about that comment. Men just don't know how to handle being objectified." He smiled at her. "Bad new, Will, I'm afraid your next lesson is going to be worse."

"What's the next lesson?"

"Dance 101."

---

For the aftermath of Kim's trip to China see chapter 11 of Cognitive Dissonance.


	7. I Could Have Danced All Night

Boilerplate Disclaimer: Disney owns the various characters from the Kim Possible series. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners.

Jamal appeared in Best Enemies.

**Chapter 7 - I Could Have Danced All Night**

Monique caught herself smiling as she took out her cell phone to call Will. She closed the phone and put it away while she analyzed the smile. She was interested in dating again, and it had nothing to do with Will Du she reminded herself.

Last year's breakup with Jamal had been traumatic. She had resolved to concentrate on starting college and not look for anyone while on the rebound. Will simply represented a pleasant interlude as she got back into serious dating mode. She'd been out with three different guys in the last couple weeks. Actually, she wasn't sure if she could claim three or two. Cal had asked her out for lunch after Earth Sciences, but his motive appeared to be an assignment for another class and he wanted insight into the 'black experience' and asked her what it was like to live in a slum. He had taken it badly when she told him that the army-subsidized on base housing, while not exactly luxurious, didn't count as a slum. When he refused to believe her Monique lost her temper and threw some German at him that was never used in polite conversation.

No, Cal did not count. And Mike had been inattentive at the basketball game, and abandoned her at the university gym when it was over to join some dorm buddies. And she had simply walked out on Tyrone and the movie when his hands started to wander. Still, they were dates.

Will treated her with respect. And she had enjoyed taking him shopping and talking at the food court. She only wanted to discharge the promise she made to herself to help prepare him for the right girl. She'd give him a couple dance lessons and then her duty was over and she could start looking for some hunk who was seriously fun to be with.

_"He's just a charity case,"_ she told herself. Then, her motives clear in her own mind, Monique took out the phone and gave him a call.

They chatted for a couple minutes before she pitched her offer, "Okay, Will, I'm not going to be seen in public with you in any spot where people dance. Would you like a lesson this Friday at my place? I'm not working and got stuck watching kid brother. Momma told me I could invite you over."

His voice sounded happy as he answered, "Sounds wonderful."

"Actually, Sherlock, the offer comes with a condition. She'd like you to come for dinner. You've never talked with her for more than two minutes before you've whisked me out the door.

"Tell your mother I accept her terms of surrender."

"Six be okay?"

"It should present no difficulty."

"What will you wear?"

"What will I wear?"

"Is there some sort of echo on the line? I assume you don't plan to show up naked. You just got a new wardrobe, what will you wear?"

"Give me a scenario."

"Give you a scenario?"

"Your observation about an echo on the line appears accurate."

"Can it, Mr. Bond. What do you mean about scenario?"

"According to you I'm now outfitted for any casual event. Describe a situation and I will dress to the appropriate standards for it. Is this a fourth of July barbecue, first date, or someone I've known for years?"

"Hmmm, okay. You are going to a friend's house to watch football. Not Superbowl party, but not a regular season game. First round of playoffs."

"And what is my relationship with the friend? Have we been dating for an extended period or only met recently?"

"Um, you don't know him well, but you think he's cute."

"Monique!"

"Sorry," she laughed. "You've known her as long as you've known me."

When she opened the door to the apartment on Friday afternoon after getting home from the library Monique smelled heaven. "What is that," she called as she hung up her coat.

"Roast beef, red potatoes, corn soufflé, and green beans almondine," Momma answered.

"No dessert?" Colin complained. Monique stood in the kitchen doorway and saw her youngest brother sitting at the table doing homework.

"Monique's boyfriend called and asked if he could bring anything," Momma answered. "I suggested he bring dessert."

"He's not my boyfriend," Monique reminded her. "That is so not funny."

Martin was in the living room, practicing twirling a basketball on his finger, "You should have made fried chicken and collard greens. That's probably what he's expecting."

"Stop playing with that ball in the apartment," Momma warned him.

"But I'm going to the Center right after dinner!"

"And you'll put it in the closet now if you want to leave tonight. I don't want the Andersons complaining about you bouncing it on the floor again."

Monique decided her best course of action was to ignore both her mom and Marty. She made certain she was standing by the intercom to buzz Will into the building at six. She stepped into the hallway, propping the door open with her foot.

"Don't let my mom and brother get to you," she warned Will. "They'll try to tease you."

"I hope you don't find me presumptuous if I claim to be immune to teasing."

She sighed. "You probably are presumptuous. But you're right. It really isn't you they're teasing. It's me."

"Would it be inconvenient for me to remain?"

"Too late for you to back out now, Sherlock. I want to see what's in that bakery box. Let's face the music, and dance."

Once in the apartment Monique grabbed the white bakery box and peered inside. "Oh, Momma, come look at this strawberry torte, it's incredible."

"Um, looks good," her mother agreed. "I don't know whether to eat it or just rub it directly on my thighs."

Monique was happy her skin tone kept her from blushing easily.

Under normal circumstances the small round kitchen table felt slightly cramped with four people sitting around it. With Monique's desk chair added to make places for five it was badly crowded. Fortunately Monique's mom needed to get to a meeting, and Marty was always eager to get to the Center so the meal didn't last long. As they left Monique turned to Colin, "You need to go to your room and read, I have to wash dishes and then I give Will a dance lesson in the living room."

"I wanta watch TV!"

"Well there isn't room to give him a lesson in any other room!"

"I want TV!"

"Is there any sort of compromise possible here?" Will interrupted.

"How about I read if you play three games of Clue first?" Colin suggested.

"Three will take a long time," Will objected.

"Not with Colin," Monique told him. "You've never seen a kid so lucky. Okay, sport," she told her brother, "you clean table and set up the game while I wash dishes."

"May I assist you in loading the dishwasher?" Will asked.

"Only if you can find one here. Want to dry while I wash?"

Will found it wonderfully domestic to stand beside her at the sink. He found the feel of her warm, soapy hands as she handed him a plate electrifying. He wished he could tell her how good it felt, but worried that it would drive her away, she'd made it plain she didn't want to date him. But for him, just being with her was a pleasure he wished would never end…

Monique swung a hip over and bumped up against him, "Pay attention, Sherlock."

"What?" he asked, startled.

"We're done."

"Time for Clue!" Colin reminded them.

Colin won the first game quickly enough to arouse Will's suspicions. He carefully studied the backs of the old cards during the second game and noted that some of the scratches and stains appeared deliberate rather than accidental. Colin won the second game almost as quickly as the first. Monique set up for the third game and dealt the cards.

Before his first roll Will announced, "It was Professor Plum, in the Study, with the Rope."

"Now that's just guessing," Monique complained.

Colin stared, eyes wide.

"Please, check the cards," Will told her.

Not believing Will could be right Monique checked the hidden cards, "Study, Plum, Rope." She laughed, "Okay, what happened?"

"Professional secret," Will insisted. "But I believe Colin will count this for the third game."

Colin nodded yes, and Monique went into the living room to select some CDs.

"Your cards appear a little worn," Will told the boy. "If I come over again I'll buy you a new game."

"How did you really do that?"

"Do you think you're the first kid to cheat at Clue?"

He grinned, "Monique says you're a spy."

"Not a spy. Global Justice enforces international laws and intervenes in criminal activities which transcend the borders of…" He was losing Colin. Will put a finger to his lips and whispered, "Yes, I'm a spy. But you aren't allowed to tell anyone."

"For real?"

Will nodded yes, stuck out his index finger and crossed his heart, then put his finger to his lips again in a 'hush' warning.

"Cool!" Colin whispered.

"Okay, you to your room," Monique told Colin when she came back to the kitchen.

"Do I hafta go to bed?"

"No, I'm going to try and teach Mister Bond to shake his groove thing for an hour or so. Then maybe we'll split the last of that strawberry torte." She looked at Will, "Sorry, but I'll probably need to send you home after that -- I got a big assignment dumped on me today, and I'm working all day tomorrow and part of Sunday so I have to start now."

Monique turned on the stereo, but kept it low to keep the Andersons from complaining. "Now watch me," she told Will.

"No problem."

A minute later she said, "Your turn."

"My turn to what?"

"Dance, silly."

After an hour and a quarter they collapsed on the couch. Monique was laughing hard, "Do you want the good news or the bad news first?"

"Good news, please," he requested. "I would appreciate a kind word."

She composed herself and answered him seriously, "Will, you improved tremendously."

"Thank you. And the bad news."

She burst out laughing again. "You are still terrible! Seriously, Will, you're going to need a couple more lessons before I can feel my work is done… Is that okay, or am I insulting you?"

He grinned, if it meant seeing Monique again he had no problems with her assessment. "I'm fine," he assured her. "I believe you said something about strawberry torte as a reward. Should we ask Colin? He did leave us alone."

For some reason her stomach suddenly felt odd. It was usually a better indicator of emotional feelings than the heart. "You are an angel," she told him as she took him by the hand and pulled him toward the kitchen. "Colin! Do you want another slice of the cake and a glass of milk?"

On Tuesday Betty Director didn't bother looking up when her office door opened. She recognized his measured footsteps. "You don't need to stand at attention," she growled, still without looking, as she finished reading the report.

"May I inquire, Dr. Director, how you were able to ascertain I am at attention without observing how I stood."

She initialed the end of the report, closed the folder, and placed it in a basket for filing before looking up, "It's because you always stand at attention, until I remind you we aren't military -- and then you go to parade rest."

He self-consciously tried to relax, but mostly succeeded in looking uncomfortable.

"You heard Lydia Wickham resigned, effective immediately?" He nodded. "Husband has cancer, she wants to be with him as much as possible. I've got three good internal candidates for her position. It will take a couple months for me to determine the best candidate and for the Security Council to approve. If I appoint any of the three to the position temporarily it will complicate the process." Her voice assumed a confidential tone. "Will, you're going to go far with Global Justice, but you realize you are too young to be considered for a position this high. But your attention to detail impresses me. It is a huge responsibility, but I have the authority to name a temporary replacement and I'd like you to take it. Think you can manage?"

"I am honored, and will accept the responsibility."

"Great. Lydia will be in tomorrow to clean her office and to train you… Thanks."

"Thank you, Dr. Director."

He was still high on excitement Sunday when Monique told him he would need at least another dance lesson. If anything being told he needed another session with her just left him happier.

Will had never had a serious relationship with a girl and wasn't sure what he felt. His heart told him it was love. His intellect argued it was nothing more than infatuation, and he could find another girl who would make him as happy. Another part of his psyche weighed into the argument whenever he saw her or thought about her, and he had started taking a lot of cold showers. His intellect informed him that the efficacy of cold showers was greatly over-rated.

He enjoyed being with her so much he couldn't understand why she didn't enjoy it also. But she had told him they would never date; he was 'a nice guy', but a charity case. He wondered if he could try and dance even worse than he really did to receive more lessons. But Monique seemed to take real pleasure in seeing his progress. Or maybe she just took pleasure in knowing the time when she'd never have to see him again drew nearer. Will took pride in being a man of his word. She had made him promise to never talk about dating, but it was hard not to beg her for dates whenever they talked or saw each other.

Monique couldn't count the number of boy friends she's had over the years. although only a handful could have been considered serious. But they'd given her an idea of what she wanted, and Will didn't meet the job specs. She wanted spontaneous and fun, while the Global Justice agent was too studied and thoughtful. She had resented his efforts to impress her with his intelligence by means of his vocabulary at first, but she'd come to accept it as part of who he was and now felt vaguely amused by it.

And after the night he ate supper with the family she felt a change towards him. He wasn't the man she wanted to spend her life with, but it was fun to be with him. He was a little quiet and shy, but he was attentive and thoughtful and treated her like a queen. He didn't set her heart racing, but he showed her how she wanted to be treated. She worried she wasn't being fair to him. He needed to get out and meet the perfect girl for him, but Monique hoped they could keep seeing each other occasionally until one of them found the perfect match. She wouldn't mention that to him, of course. She didn't want to admit changing her mind. And telling him, 'I wouldn't mind dating you until someone better comes along,' sounded cruel. She wasn't sure what to do.

The third lesson came the following Saturday, when Will managed to spend most of the day with Monique by offering to take her and Colin to the Middleton zoo.

Colin stared with obvious wonder when Will opened the car door for Monique. "Pay attention," she told him, "girls want a gentleman for their boyfriend."

"So he's your boyfriend?" Colin asked. An uncomfortable silence from both of them was his only answer.

At the zoo Colin wanted to see everything at once, and Will finally put a tracking chip on him to insure he didn't get lost.

"What is that?" Colin demanded at one enclosure.

"It's a tapir," Monique explained. "They're from South America."

"When I was about your age," Will told the boy, "I called it a snort hog. My big sister, Barb, never let me forget that. Never trust big sisters. They'll remember everything you ever say and use it against you."

"Just for that comment, Mr. Du, I will be ordering the most expensive thing on the menu for supper."

"What do you say, Colin," Will asked, "Shall we go to McDonald's?"

"YEA! MickyD's!"

"I don't know which of you two is worse," Monique laughed

After dinner, not at McDonald's, and another dance lesson Will and Monique sat beside each other on the couch. She felt wonderful, and wanted him to know how she felt. She put her hand on his and squeezed gently, "Well, you'll never be a great dancer, but I think you're ready to be seen in public."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, "Does that mean your work is done and you don't want to see me again?"

She panicked. He was supposed to ask her out when she said that. Didn't he realize her feelings had changed? Maybe he didn't want to date her any more, maybe he'd moved on after she told him they wouldn't date. "Well, ah, I guess this was what I promised to do. But, um, we're friends… You can give me a call someday, I guess, if you need someone to do something with…"


	8. Dawn of the Dead

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. All registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

See the end of Cognitive Dissonance for more on the attack on Global Justice.

**Chapter 8 - Dawn of the Dead**

Monique waited in vain for a call from Will. It was the man's job to call the woman -- and she played by the rules.

Will weighed various theories as he headed in for another graveyard shift at Global Justice. Dr. Director might have appointed him acting associate director to knock some pride out of him, or to make him realize the job was more complex that he realized. Of course, she would only have given him the position, even temporarily, if she believed he was capable of performing the duties.

And he felt distinctly grateful that the last week of being in charge during the night shift had so distorted his sleeping cycle he had no chance to call Monique. _"She's not interested in me,"_ he reminded himself. _"I need to get her out her mind."_

He wondered whether he would have noticed the danger if he hadn't been thinking of Monique.

As he went through the routine security check at the entrance of Global Justice Headquarters a small chip was pressed onto the back of his neck, held in place with a powerful adhesive.

A voice spoke in his head "They think you're wearing a mind control chip. Play along or they'll kill you. My name is Drakken. Find Shego. There are two other fake chips, they vibrate when you are close to another one. Get help. Message repeats."

Will hesitated, wondering if pranksters were playing a monstrous joke, but two men in red WEE uniforms stood inside the door to the central corridor and commanded, "Go about your normal business for now. You will only listen to the men in red, and above all you will listen to Gemini."

_"Assuming this is not a joke, what are my options?"_ Will thought as he headed toward his temporary office. A WEE terrorist in the office caused him to walk past. Many GJ employees objected to the security devices which jammed cell phones inside the building. Will might join their ranks -- if he survived this. It seemed unlikely that WEE could have chipped everyone in the building, unless they had planned more carefully than Will believed possible. Still, he went by the communication center before trying to call or email out. Four WEE members supervised the GJ workers monitoring electronic access in an out of the building. If they were under Gemini's control that access was also cut off.

Every few minutes Drakken's message repeated in his head. He stopped at his old cubicle to plan before a sweep through the building in search of a person with a similar chip.

Will came to two fast conclusions in regard to WEE's plans. First, Gemini had to possess enough mind control chips for everyone at Global Justice headquarters. Second, while there were far too many variables for a madman like Gemini to truly take over Global Justice he could easily destroy the organization and kill off most of its members by ordering them to defend themselves against an organized attack. Will saw two tasks he needed to accomplish. First, he must get word out of Gemini's plan. Second, he must keep WEE from gaining access to the weapons stored in the building. He figured a way out of the building, but that left him torn. Dr. Director needed to be warned before the next shift arrived. But the weapons in the building had to be locked down to prevent a bloodbath. He didn't know which job would save more lives in the coming battle, and the only way he saw to accomplish both goals had a high probability of killing him.

There had to be some way to free the GJ agents from the mind control chips. But the only hope appeared to be Drakken's claim that Shego could help, and a blue megalomaniac almost as insane as Gemini sending him to a green felon for aid seemed an impossibly thin hope.

On his second sweep through the building his temporary office stood empty, he went in for his copy of the security codes for the armory. As he hunted through his files the chip on the back of his neck suddenly vibrated, his head jerked up. Several Global Justice agents stood in the hallway, and a man in red. A woman carrying some folders observed his sudden motion at the same time she felt the buzzing in her own chip.

The buzzing grew louder as she walked into his office and dropped two folders on his desk.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Mary Duncan."

"If Drakken was telling the truth there is one more of us -- or maybe that chip hasn't been used yet. We have to get word out. In six and a half hours a new shift reports for duty -- and I assume they will all be chipped. You have to leave."

"How do I do that? Aren't they watching all the exits?"

"When I checked. Walk out openly, tell them Gemini ordered you to go and buy dog food -- no one will argue." He wrote a number down on a piece of paper, "Direct line to Dr. Director. Find a land line, they can monitor cell calls in a several mile radius."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to see if there is anything I can do on the inside to cause problems for Gemini."

He walked with her towards the exit. "What do I do if they challenge me?" she asked

"If they order you back turn around and come back. Try not to arouse suspicion. I've got two more plans if this doesn't work." He paused and she moved towards the exit. He gave her twenty seconds, then headed that direction himself to make sure she had escaped. It appeared she had made it out, and he breathed a sigh of relief -- until he was challenged.

"Where are you going?" a man in red demanded.

"Office supplies," he stated mechanically.

A second WEE agent snorted with laughter, "This is a hoot, we tell 'em to act normally and he's getting paperclips while we take over."

"Go ahead," the first man ordered.

Will continued on to the storeroom for office supplies, where he grabbed every tube of superglue he could find.

Mary Duncan would contact Dr. Director, Will had absolute faith in the ability of Global Justice operatives. Given the relationship between Kim Possible and the green thief Betty Director would be able to contact Shego. Whether Shego knew anything which might stop Gemini represented a real question, and whether she would cooperate, even if she had knowledge, yet another. Time also remained a critical factor. Even if Shego had knowledge, and a willingness to help, was there time to put it together? In the face of all those questions Will had to cripple the defense infrastructure of the headquarters building as much as possible.

Travel through headquarters presented an eerie experience. He wondered what, if anything, the mind-controlled agents were aware of. Their voices sounded oddly flat and he shivered at the image of being the only living man in a building full of zombies. _"Zombies and demons,"_ he corrected himself as he remembered the WEE agents patrolling the building.

Two WEE terrorists stood outside the armory. "Why are you here?" one asked.

"Routine inventory," he replied in a flat voice.

"Great, we been lookin' for a guy with the security codes!"

Will cursed himself for his answer, but there was no way to back out of his lie without arousing suspicion.

They followed him into the storeroom and watched as he entered the security code into the keypad for the first weapons' locker.

"Great," one chuckled as the door swung open. "Give us the others."

"I must check the contents of this locker first," he answered.

"Ah, let him do his job," the second suggested. "Give him a piece of paper and order him to write all the codes down for us. I don't want to remember all that."

"Hear that, inventory man? Write all the codes down and give 'em to us before you leave."

"I understand."

Will breathed a huge sigh of relief as they went back to watch the corridor. He would give them a list of the current security codes on the weapons' lockers. But by the time he left the room new codes would be keyed in, and a tube of superglue squirted into each keypad would make possession of even the proper code a moot point.

After altering codes and fouling the systems for the weapons' lockers and ammunition storage he entered the store room for body armor and found a Kevlar body suit that he quickly put on under his clothing. He hesitated as he closed the door to the storeroom. Body armor might save the lives of innocent agents trapped by the mind control chips. It would also make them more effective tools for the WEE terrorists. Uncertain about his decision he jammed a tube of superglue into the lock and squirted the contents into the mechanism.

He had taken almost two hours in the armory, long enough for an efficient inventory -- and to make certain nothing was still accessible. "Here is the information you requested," he told the WEE guards as he left.

He had sped through research and development on his first sweep, only interested in finding another person free of mind control. They were the next stop on his sabotage tour. R and D appeared to be the center for WEE presence in the building, almost twenty men in red watched the GJ technicians. Will realized with a start that they were manufacturing mind control chips. Gemini had done better planning that Will gave him credit for. The young man wondered what relationship existed between Gemini and Drakken. Had they planned this together until a falling out of some sort? Will abandoned the question as non-productive. And attempts at sabotage here would likely draw suspicion. Getting an approximate idea of the number of WEE agents in the building, while looking for the third agent with a fake chip and doing a little more to hamper defense efforts in the building seemed the best course of action.

_"Around fifty WEE agents,"_ Will concluded as he finished his sweep of headquarters. He wondered if he should have attacked Gemini when he saw him, but the head of WEE had four bodyguards with him. Since Gemini was scouting GJ headquarters it suggested a heavily guarded room in research might be Drakken. Will managed to destroy the locks on several other doors of some strategic importance -- including Betty Director's office door.

Another trip through the research lab found WEE security remained strong and presented no opportunity for sabotage. Without any clear plan of action until shift change Will returned to his old cubicle, turned on his computer and took it off-line. He started his word processing program and began to type, "Dear Monique, If you receive this note, found on my computer after I died…" _"No, too depressing,"_ he thought and started another note. He threw away several letters. He began to roll on the eighth letter. It was the first love note he'd ever written, but as he looked it over it expressed perfectly how much he thought of Monique. He saved it, thought for minute, and moved the file over to trash. If he got killed this morning he didn't want to be remembered as an obsessed stalker.

He looked at the clock, it was getting close to time for the new shift to report. He pocketed a security video he'd located earlier and headed for the main entrance. He saw three options. First, Agent Duncan contacted Dr. Director and a tactical squad arrived. Second, Agent Duncan contacted Dr. Director and a roadblock meant no one would arrive. Third scenario represented a WEE outer defense perimeter intercepting Agent Duncan and the next shift arriving unprepared for the mind chips.

Will nodded to the agents at the security desk, wondering again what they knew of events around them, and stared out the bulletproof glass doors towards the parking lot. No one arriving would be fine. He hoped he could distinguish between a tactical squad and shift reporting in. He would run out the glass doors and warn them away if they were the next shift. He hoped he could sound the alarm before being shot in the back of the head by WEE agents, but realized that would prove a highly effective warning.

He tensed as a group came into view. He looked for familiar face, ready to run out if it was regular shift. He smiled as he saw Agent Duncan on point. He couldn't be certain, but thought he saw Kim Possible and her blond friend whose name he couldn't remember in the group. Will got ready to offer any assistance he could, but the clash was almost anti-climactic. Two agents in the incoming group waved small devices at the guards and a security guard gasped, "Thank God!"

The two WEE men stationed behind the entrance door realized something was wrong and burst in, guns drawn. Kim and What's-his-name flattened them.

A guard called to Will, "I just turned off the volume to the camera in central security. Should I turn off visual?"

"That will tell WEE that we're trying a rescue."

"Well, they'll sure as hell know it if they can see the visual."

Will kept his back to the camera and pulled a video-cassette from his jacket pocket. "Put this in the camera feed. It's yesterday's tape. If they missed the last sixty seconds we can fool them a little longer."

Forty seconds later three ambulances pulled up at the main doors. Betty Director and a sickly looking Shego emerged from one ambulance, arguing. "I don't have time to deal with you," Betty barked at the emaciated thief. "Strap one of those silicon phase disruptors on me," she ordered one of the agents carrying one.

Will knew immediately what she planned, and ordered the agent, "No, don't give it to her."

"What?" Dr. Director asked in disbelief.

"It's my shift. You aren't in charge. And we need you to stay out here."

Oddly, the green thief smiled and seconded Will.

There wasn't time to argue. Will, Kim, Ron, and a fourth agent got the disruptors, and strapped on huge battery packs as they sketched a plan of action. Other agents got out the non-lethal weapons stored in the ambulances.

"Casualties?" Dr. Director asked.

"None that I know of, so far."

"What are we facing, Will?"

"Around fifty WEE agents by my count. Thin around the perimeter, usually in pairs. Heaviest concentration in Research and Development, but several at the communications center."

"We'd better focus on the armory first."

"I don't think that is necessary, Dr. Director. Gremlins were already there."

It proved to be more of a mopping up operation than a battle. Casualties were relatively few.

Will noted a female GJ agent single out a WEE operative and begin to beat him. He concluded that those under the power of the neural-compliance chip maintained their awareness. He gave her a minute before ordering her to stop. With WEE out of the communications center jamming devices were turned off for easier communications. Will heard a desperate call for medics to R and D, and almost immediately heard a report Shego had been killed. A confirmation that Gemini had been taken down came through two minutes later and WEE resistance essentially collapsed.

Since she couldn't get into her office Betty Director joined Will in the final sweep of the building, she wanted to observe him in action. He possessed none of Kim's personal skills or gift for innovation, but his analytical skills were better. She had hoped these two might have developed a relationship and still couldn't understand Kim's fascination with the green thief -- although the news Shego had taken a bullet meant for Kim told her the feelings were returned.

Medics were working on Shego when they reached R and D. The thief looked dead, and Ron cradled a blood-stained Kim in his arms. With nothing they could do for either they went to check on Drakken, confirming the initial report he had been badly tortured by WEE to obtain his cooperation.

"You're in charge, Will," Dr. Director told him as they left the medics working on Drakken. "I'll be with Kim."

Will accepted the job of drafting a report on the attack, and recommendations on improved security for Global Justice. The busy work would keep Monique out of his head.

The black woman got very little out of the hysterical Kim two days later except for the news Shego hovered near death and Global Justice had been attacked.

"Was Will there?" Monique demanded.

"Yeah, right in the middle--"

"Was he hurt?"

"I'm not sure."

Monique hung up on Kim.

Will sounded tired when he answered his phone, "Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

"Who is this?"

"Monique."

"Monique," he sighed. She was too worried about him to notice the reverence with which he breathed her name.

"Will Du, if you don't call me I'm never going to speak to you again!"

They laughed, and talked. An hour later Monique's mom told her to hang up, other people needed the phone too. Will stared at the phone and smiled, for the first time in his life he decided to follow his heart rather than his head. He would not give up on Monique Grant.


	9. You Must Remember This

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

This chapter assumes you know a slightly off-color joke Bonnie told Kim and Monique: Bonnie asked, "Why do men think women are psychic?"  
Kim knew she should ignore the question, but couldn't help herself, "I don't know. Why?"  
"Because we know in advance when they're going to get laid."

Actually, this chapter refers to events in Best Enemies: Redux, Cognitive Dissonance, and Grudge Matches, and reflects Before the Dawn. You can read it by itself, but feel free to read the other stories for the more complete context.

And I stole a couple lines from chapter fifty-eight of Pride and Prejudice with minor modifications.

**Chapter 9 - You Must Remember This**

"Ballroom dancing? Please, tell me you're joking," Monique requested.

"Please," he pleaded, "I have another coming out party for some third cousin or something this fall. You were telling me being able to dance would help make me more attractive when I meet the right girl, I just thought… Because you are my friend and all…" _"Please, let me have the chance to hold you in my arms."_

"Look, Will, I don't do ballroom stuff--"

"I'll pay for lessons. I just want you for my partner."

"Wouldn't the dance studio supply a partner for you?"

"Perhaps, but I found you such an effective teacher for contemporary--"

"But I wouldn't be teaching you! I'd just be taking the class with you."

"Comfort is conducive to the learning environment, and I feel I would be able to accomplish more if I took lessons with you." He would have said more, but still worried over the night in February when she told him they'd never date seriously.

Monique sighed, she wanted him to ask her out and wasn't happy that he talked about trying to meet the right girl. She hoped she hadn't discouraged him too much. At least dance lessons were a place to start. "Sure, it might be fun."

"Tell me whatever night is most convenient for your schedule and I'll make our reservations at a studio there in Middleton."

The classes weren't as bad as Monique feared, but during the second one she asked, "When is this coming out party you're preparing for?" Will answered her far too quickly. It suggested a real family occasion. She had hoped he would stammer, revealing he had invented the party as a ploy to see more of her.

The classes were infinitely worse than Will had expected. When Monique laid her head on his chest during the slow numbers he feared the beating of his heart would deafen her. She wasn't interested. He was just torturing himself, and he couldn't help it, he wanted her so badly.

They always stopped for tea and dessert before he took her home. It was ostensibly done for the sake of Kim. Monique asked how Shego fared in Global Justice custody, and kept Kim's terrible secret. Will gave her a status report on Shego's improving health. Then, their duty done, he asked about her classes and hung on every word she uttered. She asked about his duties as temporary assistant director, and laughed hard one night as he told the story of the final bill for fixing his sabotage during the WEE attack -- and Betty Director's comment that she'd never been so proud of anyone doing almost a quarter million dollars' worth of damage in parts and labor to GJ headquarters.

Monique violated her own principles and invited him to the last dance of the semester at the Onion. He wasn't great at fast dancing. She doubted he ever would be. But she needed him to know she wanted to be out with him on the dance floor.

"I hope I didn't embarrass you too much," he told her as they stopped for cheesecake and tea.

She smiled, "I'm never embarrassed to be out with you."

"I think you are showing off your abilities as a dance instructor, although I fear I don't display your teaching prowess properly. That would have needed to see how bad I was before you started to see how much you've done," he chuckled.

_"Or maybe I just wanted to be out with you,"_ she thought.

They fell into something of a pattern, expecting to see each other sometime over the weekend as well as the dance class. Both grew increasingly frustrated, Monique fearing he really wasn't interested in her as more than a friend and Will fearing that his longing for her would scare her away.

He invited her to another play in Upperton. Monique returned to Talbots. She wasn't desperate enough yet for the strapless dress she had tried on months earlier, but almost. The manager recognized her and waved as she came in.

"Hello," he greeted her cheerily, "what can I do for you?"

She took a deep breath, "Is there any chance you remember the long red dress I tried on… The one with the slit skirt."

He smiled, "Oh, honey, I think you are going to make some lucky man very happy."

"I hope so, I really hope so."

Monique couldn't tell if the dress was the problem, but Will seemed more distant than usual. His conversation appeared oddly disjointed several times during the evening. "Are you okay," she asked repeatedly.

"Fine, I'm fine," he assured her nervously.

"Upset that you've given up the temporary position at Global Justice? I know it must have meant a lot to you."

"Yes, that must be it," he agreed with desperate gratitude for being supplied with a reasonable answer.

During the play she had been seated with the slit on his side. He was certain her bare leg had rubbed against him accidentally as they watched, but it had excited him to a point where he could think of nothing else. A cold shower would not suffice this evening. He'd have to fill a tub with cold water, sit down in it, and dump in a ten pound bag of ice. The way he felt at the moment it would probably all turn to steam instantly.

Monique cried herself to sleep that night. She had never thrown herself at a man that way, and he still didn't respond. He must have lost any romantic interest in her; she was just a friend whose company he enjoyed.

Kim's spirits revived slightly with her reconciliation with Shego. In July, before Global Justice used her to escort Shego to Canada for trial, she went out with Will and Monique to thank them for keeping her informed during the worst of the time when she had not been speaking with the green thief.

The tension between Will and Monique filled Kim with both concern and amusement. They so obviously cared for each other that she at first thought the lack of signs of affection was an attempt to disguise their feelings from her. As the evening wore on, however, she realized that they remained blind to the emotion between them that was so plain to her.

The redhead took them to Columbia to Kenya at the end of the evening. After a few minutes Will, ever the perfect gentleman, asked Dr. Kemal for a game of chess in order to give Kim and Monique a time for private conversation.

"So, what's up with you and Will?" Kim demanded

"You sound just like my mother."

"Seriously, Monique, have you two even kissed?"

"Kim, that's sort of personal."

Kim interpreted that as no. Monique would have told her the truth if the answer were yes. "Look, the two of you have something going on. What? Have you kissed him? Be honest."

"No."

"Well, the two of you need to kiss and decide whether you want each other or not -- I'm getting uncomfortable watching you."

"And a kiss will tell us that?"

"It worked for me and Shego."

Monique appeared skeptical. "I think I blew it with Will. I wasn't really sure if I was interested at first. I told him we'd never really date, I'd just give him some pointers on what to do when he met the right girl. Now I'm interested… But I don't think he is. I'm just a comfortable old shoe to him while he's looking for his perfect woman."

Kim snorted in disbelief, "No way. Can't you see how weird he's acting? Okay, Will always acts weird. Can't you see how weird he acts around you?"

"Uh, GF, I hate to point out the obvious, but I've never been around Will when he wasn't around me. How am I supposed to know what weird or normal is for the guy?"

"Trust me, 'Nique, I've never seen Will twist in agony like this. He's got it so bad for you he doesn't know what to do."

"Then why doesn't he try to do something? He could tell me or try and kiss me."

"After you told him you weren't interested in dating him? The only thing Will knows how to do is play by the rules. And you set them. Come on, you said you wanted a Boy Scout. Will is a Boy Scout. How many men do you think would keep going out with you and not even get a goodnight kiss? People think Shego and I are sick and twisted. I think you two have us beat."

"I don't know Kim. I mean, we share values and we have fun. But we told ourselves in February nothing serious was ever going to happen between us. Okay, I told him nothing serious was going to happen. What if he thinks I'm just a friend? I like getting out with him. Will I scare him off? I'm hoping he's going to realize I'm interested and tell me that he is too."

Kim rolled her eyes, "A simple little goodnight kiss. See how he responds. You want me to show you how it's done?"

"KIM!"

"One kiss, see what happens."

"Kissing is how it starts Kim, that's not where it ends. I almost went too far with Jamal."

"Will isn't Jamal. You already know he has the patience of Job. I'm starting to wonder if he's gay."

"That's just crazy."

"Really, Monique, you need to get psychic."

"I am not going to--"

"Not sex, just a kiss. It's time Monique. A simple goodnight kiss. See how he responds."

"I'll think about it."

"Good girl."

Will wondered what the two had talked about while he had been badly beaten twice by the Global Justice translator and Kim's faculty advisor. Monique seemed unusually quiet for the rest of the evening.

In the car he suggested dropping Monique off at her apartment first.

Kim leaned forward in the back seat and gently slapped the side of his head, "You take the guest home first, then your girlfriend. Otherwise she thinks we're having a wild affair behind her back."

Will blushed crimson at Kim's words, and Monique squirmed uncomfortably on the leather upholstery. She felt that Kim was laying it on too thick. At the same time Monique was summoning up her courage to follow through with her friend's challenge.

Outside the Possible's house Monique fretted as Will opened the car door for Kim and escorted her to her front door. The black woman had wanted to think the courtesy was reserved for her. Kim waited until Will was on his way back to the car, then waved two crossed fingers at Monique. Monique nervously waved back, two fingers also crossed.

Very little was said by either on the way to her apartment: he felt too awkward in her presence to know the 'right' thing to say; and Monique was secretly forming a desperate resolution. He parked and silently came around to let her out of the car and escort her to the door. They went to the door silently, walking so close their arms brushed against each other.

Now was the moment for her resolution to be executed; and, while her courage was high she faced him instead of taking out her key, moving in close she demanded, "Will, why have you never tried to kiss me?"

"Well, after February you made it apparent--"

"A lot has happened since February. I've been sending out signals for the last month or two, but it's like you aren't picking them up."

"Signals?"

Will looked blank, and Monique suddenly realized, "OMG, you've never kissed a girl before, have you?"

"OMG?"

"Don't change the subject. Have you kissed a girl before?" She took a deep breath as she waited for his answer.

"Let me guess, mothers, sisters, and elderly aunts don't count -- right?"

"Right. So, you're a kiss virgin?"

He didn't look very happy as he nodded his head yes. Monique smiled and slowly let out the deep breath she had taken as she softly stroked his cheek. "I've been afraid you weren't interested. I've been playing by the rules, waiting for you. But you don't know the rules, do you?"

He looked puzzled, and she put him out of his misery by putting her arms around his neck, "I promise to be gentle," she assured him as she drew his lips to her own.

She felt his arms going around her, and the warm embrace felt good. They held the position for a minute. Monique didn't care if nosy Mrs. Perkins saw them or not. While Will obviously lacked experience he clearly lacked nothing in desire.

When they broke for air Monique told him, "That was what Kim and I call a three--"

"Three?"

"On a kiss scale of one to ten."

"You've kissed Kim?"

"No, of course not. But we talked about kissing when she and Shego were dancing around each other trying to figure out what was happening with them. I made up a scale in my own mind after that. On the ten scale that was a three."

His eyes went wide. "Only a three?"

Monique giggled, "You poor deprived boy, there is so much you don't know. That was a three. And you don't get more than a three, tonight."

"I'm just trying to imagine a ten."

"Don't imagine a ten. At least not with me. I'm saving that until after I get married."

"I can wait," he was grinning like an idiot, but Monique thought that on him it looked good.

"Why don't you play Oliver Twist?" she suggested.

"Oliver Twist?"

She laughed, "Sorry, I'm too happy to think clearly… Or maybe I'm supposed to use the line, something about, 'Please, may I have a little more?'."

"Please, Monique," he whispered in her ear, "may I have another?"

It was as exciting to the couple as the first.

"I need to go in," Monique breathed softly as the kiss ended.

He reluctantly dropped his arms, "Well, if you must," he said sadly.

"I'm sorry, Will, I keep forgetting how little experience you have. That was a quiz. You failed."

"How?"

"You need to take a little initiative. You were supposed to hold me tight and kiss me one more time."

"Sorry."

"That's okay you can try again… I need to go in."

His arms circled her once again, drawing her tight, and somehow he put all the longing for her he had felt for months in that kiss. When the kiss ended he asked, "Did I meet or exceed expectations?"

She suspected she was grinning like an idiot herself, but she could neither help it nor stop. "Definitely." He looked like he planned to kiss her again, but she put a finger to his lips. "This time it isn't a quiz. I really need to go. But hold that thought until I see you again."

"Do I need to practice before I see you again?"

She laughed. "I'm staking a claim on your lips. You'd don't practice on anyone but me, hear?" She gave him a fast peck on the lips and reluctantly headed in.

He loved her; he really loved her. She danced up the stairs. Fortunately, everyone was in bed when Monique got into the apartment. She did not want to see anyone and have to explain her happiness. She just wanted to get into bed and replay the kisses over and over again in her head until she fell asleep. Maybe she'd call Kim in a few days and tell her, but right now the black woman planned to keep the knowledge to herself.

Will couldn't take the smile off of his face either. He wanted to tell the world how he felt, but it appeared that much of the world was asleep. Sometime later a phone rang in Massachusetts, and rang, and rang. Wondering why she ever put a phone in the bedroom the woman finally answered. Her tone reflected just how unhappy she felt about being awakened "What?"

"Barb?"

It took her a minute, "Will?"

"Sit down," he laughed.

"I'm in bed. I was asleep until my little brother had the audacity of call me at… What time is it, anyway?"

"Time to congratulate me! I'm going to marry Monique."

There was a pause on the line, "Who is this really," she demanded.

"It's me, I, whatever. I love Monique, I'm going to marry her."

"When did this happen?"

"Tonight!"

"You proposed tonight, and she accepted you?"

"Well, not exactly…"

"Exactly what happened?"

"I kissed her! I really kissed her!"

Barbara opened a drawer on the nightstand, put in the phone, and closed the drawer. She made a mental note to call a psychiatrist for Will in the morning. He had obviously lost his mind.


	10. They Are Different from You and Me

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

**Chapter 10 - They are Different from You and Me**

Monique smiled as Will stood at parade rest and endured a grilling from her mother.

Understanding Will made it easier to deal with some of his idiosyncrasies. Smaller and younger than other boys in his class he had seized on ROTC as a way to command respect he could not receive in other ways. Monique worried he had taken the lessons too much to heart, he showed a deference for authority she often found annoying. She crossed her fingers and hoped her mother didn't regard his posture as poking fun at the seriousness of the request.

"…and you're paying for the round trip?"

"Actually, Ma'am, I plan to fly out. Monique will fly with me rather than taking a commercial flight."

"And you're going to your parents' home. You aren't stopping to spend the night somewhere along the way?"

"No, Ma'am. A refueling stop or two, but otherwise straight to the coast."

Momma's eyes narrowed with suspicion, "Refueling stops?"

"Yes, Ma'am, don't want to pull a 'we're out of gas' routine in mid-air."

Momma smiled, "Okay, just reassure me again that Monique will have her own room and everything will be properly chaperoned."

"I promise to be a perfect gentleman, Mrs. Grant."

"And he is, Momma."

Almost two weeks later Will had one reminder for Monique on their way out. "I'm pretty sure my sister will be there at least part of the time. She is Barbara, or Barb. Her husband may be out of the country. He is Kenneth, or Ken. You do not, under any circumstances, refer to them as Barbie and Ken."

Barbara sat where she commanded a view of the driveway. She smiled as a taxi pulled up in front of the house, eager for a look at the girl who had captured her little brother's heart. She waited impatiently as Will paid the driver, "Charles," she called, "William is home. He and his guest will have bags." Will left the taxi as Charles went down the steps for Will and Monique's suitcases. The driver popped the trunk and Charles pulled out a nondescript duffle bag that piqued Barb's curiosity. Will, meanwhile, had gone to the other side of the taxi to open the door for Monique. Barb saw the back of her head as she got out. Only as Monique stood and turned to the house did Barb catch her first clear look at the young woman,_ "Oh, my God, this is going to be a problem."_

Barbara was not the only surprised person. Charles raised an eyebrow, but it was not his job to question. He'd understood he was to put Will's guest in the blue room, but decided he'd wait for confirmation on that order. Monique simply stood by Will as the taxi drove away. She stared, open-mouthed, at the house. "You grew up here?"

"Mostly. We have a little place in Boston and a summer home out on the island--"

"Wait, you've got three houses?"

"You asked where I grew up. I started the list. I only have an apartment and own one house."

"You own a house?"

"Probably more of a cottage, out on the Cape. It's really more of an investment property."

"Let's go inside. I need to sit down."

Charles had preceded them into the house, but remained standing in the hallway, awaiting orders, as Will pushed the door open, "Mom? Dad?"

Barb came in view at the door to the drawing room, "He won't be home until tomorrow. She's at a garden club meeting or something -- probably home in an hour or two."

"Barb! How long can you stay?"

She nodded, "All week, just for you. Kenneth is in Dubai until God knows when. Should I assume this is Monique?"

"Sorry. Monique Grant, my sister, Barbara Barrington. Barb, Monique."

Monique felt Barb's eyes rake over her critically, _"She's attractive,"_ the woman thought, _"what in the hell is she doing with Will?"_

Charles coughed politely, "Pardon me, I believe I was to put the guest's things in the blue room?"

"Yes," Will told him. Addressing his sister and Monique, "Why don't we sit and talk in the--"

"Monique and I will be talking in my old room," Barbara told him, taking Monique by the arm. "You can either go talk with the cook about dinner or find something masculine to do."

"I don't--" Monique tried to get a word in.

"Nonsense," Barb told her. "I'm sure Will knows how to do something masculine. And I want to talk with you."

Monique cast a look of near panic over her shoulder and Barb steered her down a hall, up a flight of stairs, down another hall, and into a yellow bedroom probably half the size of Monique's entire apartment. "Sit," the dark blonde commanded, pointing to two delicate chairs in front of a small fireplace.

The two sat and stared at each other for a full minute before Barb spoke, "May I assume this is as uncomfortable for you as it is for me?"

Monique nodded her head yes, not willing to speak

After a minute Barbara broke the silence. "My brother has amazingly little dating experience," she noted.

"I'll say," Monique muttered softly.

"So I've always assumed the first girl he brought home would be a complete mistake. My guesses were some ditz with a nice set of boobs or a gold digger more interested in his money than him. Any chance you are a ditz?"

"I resent your implication, and I don't think you know your brother very well," Monique replied hotly.

Barb raised one eyebrow in a supercilious manner, "You're not a ditz. And I know my brother exceedingly well. Are you going to tell me some romantic nonsense about falling in love with him at first sight?"

Monique hesitated. "I don't have to answer your questions."

"No, you don't. But if you're honest with me I'll be honest with you. Your choice."

Another uncomfortable minute passed in silence before Monique spoke. "Okay, when I met Will I thought he was the most boring guy I'd ever met. I was really mad at the friend who introduced us."

Barb smiled, "That's honest. Will is a good kid, but he's never left a good first impression with anyone. Who was this mutual friend who did the introduction?"

Monique recognized a woman with shrewd interview skills as she chatted with Barb. Will's sister wanted to make her comfortable and open her up more than Monique felt like being interrogated. The two continued their subtle duel for another twenty minutes, with Monique knowing she had been pressured into saying more than she wanted to say.

Barbara nodded at her, "You've survived the first round of interviews. You appear honest to me and I like to believe I'm a good judge of character. I don't know if you have any business with my brother, but I will suspend judgment for the moment. You will probably meet family more suspicious than I."

"That's something to look forward to," Monique muttered.

"Consider yourself warned. And family isn't the only hurdle. You've got a brain, and appear to have a backbone. You'll need both. Will can be amazingly stubborn and insist he gets his way.

"I've not noticed that. He seems very flex… Now you've got me doubting him. He has seemed flexible." _"But the stubborn is certainly true."_

"There are two possibilities. He may have been so disoriented when he fell for you that he hasn't been acting like his old self -- but as he becomes more comfortable that aspect of his personality may reassert itself. My hope is that he's outgrown that unfortunate trait. It made it difficult for him to hold on to friends."

"You've studied psychology, haven't you?" the black woman asked suddenly.

"Master's Degree. Why do you ask?"

"I'm planning on a minor in psych. Or maybe a double major with my business."

"Business?" Barb said it in a way that showed it raised her suspicions about Monique's interest in Will's money.

"I'm going to manage a Club Banana after I graduate."

"Will won't let his wife work in retail."

"Wife?"

"Oh, Will hasn't asked you to marry him yet?"

"What?"

"He's going to, probably soon. How will you answer?"

"I don't know… I don't want to get married to Will, at least not right now. I don't know that I ever will. I want to know him better, maybe someday--"

"Well, you can plan your answer for when he asks. And if you are serious about working you should start thinking about how to present that." The older woman looked at Monique and smiled. "If I think you're good for my brother I'll have your back against anyone in the family -- including mother and father. If you hurt him I'll cut your heart out. But I attack from the front. I won't stab you in the back. Do we understand each other?"

"No, but I'll try."

"That's good enough for the moment. Now, let's find Will. I want to watch the two of you together - and figure out what I'm going to say to mother when she gets back."

Barb wished she'd more time for character analysis before Mother came home. Will appeared to still be too much Will. While he paid more attention to Monique than she could recall him demonstrating to anyone he was still too sure of himself and demanding to be in control. Monique struck her as a strong individual; if she put up with that sort of treatment it could only mean the black woman wanted a piece of the family fortune. Barb closed her eyes and shook off the suspicion. Monique was visiting a home full of strangers and could be justifiably nervous. Barb would give her the benefit of the doubt and try to gain a better sense of the young woman during the week.

As Barb contemplated how to treat Monique her mother arrived home. The three were talking when they heard a woman's voice at the door. "Did William and his friend arrive?"

"Yes, Madame," Charles replied, "they are in the drawing room."

The younger set rose as Mrs. Du entered the room. She paused in surprise, then recovered as best she could and went over to them.

"Mother," Will greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.

Trying not to stare at Monique, Will's mother stared off into space some four feet to the side.

Barb made the introductions, "Mother, this is Will's friend, Monique Grant. Monique, my mother, Mrs. Linda Du."

"I, um, trust you had a pleasant flight," Will's Mom managed, still without looking directly at Monique.

"It's okay to be a little uncomfortable," Barb told her Mom. "Will didn't tell us how young she was. Monique will just be a sophomore in college this fall."

Linda Du laughed nervously, glad for her daughter's support. She managed to look more directly at Monique. "We are happy you could come. You must tell me about your education goals while you are here."

But supper provided no opportunity to talk about Monique's college plans. Mrs. Du seemed only interested in talking with her son. While Will tried to bring Monique into the conversation his mother kept her words few and polite to the stranger at the table. Both Monique and Barb noticed the disinclination to include Monique in her questions. Barb credited it to her mother being uncomfortable, Monique took it more personally. Barb tried to compensate by engaging Monique in conversation, which earned her mother's gratitude because it gave her even greater freedom to ignore the black woman.

Monique's early life as an army brat fascinated Barb, and the knowledge that the black woman spoke German had Barb testing her own rusty conversation skills in the language.

The meal failed to convince Barb that Monique and her brother represented a good match, but the young woman had enough brains that she might really have come to appreciate Will's good points.

Monique withheld judgment on Will's sister also. The older woman was too penetrating and suspicious to be counted as a friend, but Monique really wanted to believe Barb wouldn't try to sabotage her and would give her a chance.

"What would you like to do this evening?" Mrs. Du asked her son at the end of dinner.

"I don't believe Will has taken her down for a walk along the beach," Barb intervened. "Fortunately we'll have a week to get to know Monique better." Monique shot Barb a grateful look for proposing she and Will have some time together.

Monique and Will changed, and saw Barb on their way out. His sister looked Will over, and complimented him on dressing better.

"You're welcome," Monique replied.

Barb raised an eyebrow, "You're dressing him already?"

"Just giving him some tips."

The older woman gave Monique a smile and a nod and the knot in Monique's stomach loosened slightly as they went out.

"What's that," she asked as the two neared the ocean.

"Boat house. Have you been sailing before?"

"No," Monique admitted.

"Barb and I will have to take you out before you leave."

"Do we have to take her along?" Monique pouted.

"No, but she handles a boat better than I do. When I was little I wanted to sail on an America's Cup crew. But when your sister handles a boat better than you do you get a pilot's license and take high-speed driving courses to compensate."

The two walked along the beach for almost a mile, there were very few homes, and all of them as impressive as that of the Du's. Will named various residents, and Monique discovered she had heard most of the family names before in relation to politics or business.

They encountered only one person, who stared hard at Monique.

"She's with me," Will told him. He raised his arm to show they were holding hands.

The man laughed, "She looks like a keeper. How long you home?"

"Only a week."

"Stop by and introduce her any time."

Another knot in Monique's stomach loosened slightly. Not every meeting would be as uncomfortable as what she experienced at the Du home.

After walking back they stood on the warm, moonlit beach rather than returning to the house and Will continued kissing practice. Monique took a great deal of pleasure in how well he had mastered his lessons.

"I thought Barb and I would take Monique sailing," Will told his mother at breakfast the next morning.

"That's fine, dear."

"Did Monique bring anything grubby enough for going out?" Barb demanded. She looked over at the black woman, who looked puzzled. "I'll take that expression as a no. And since I don't think we have anything that would fit you I'll take you shopping." Monique wasn't certain if the comment was a less than subtle insult about her hip size, or a simple observation of fact. "Will, you are welcome to come with us. We can go sailing tomorrow – besides I think you'll need to have the boat here looked over first."

"Day after tomorrow," Linda reminded Barb, "I told you about the invitation to the Stevensons'."

"No one told us," Will grumbled.

"All the neighbors will be there, you have to go," his mother told him.

After breakfast Will drove. "You can come with Monique and me, or go to The Sharper Image," Barb informed him.

Will hesitated, which Monique took as an answer, "We'll call you when we're done for lunch," she told him. He grinned and went off to look at gadgets.

"I'm buying, where do you want to go?" Barb asked as Monique studied a floor plan.

"Where do you suggest, since I don't know what I need."

Barb made several store suggestions, and Monique did not pick the most expensive option and picked out a sensible outfit once there.

As they left to find a pair of canvas shoes for Monique the older woman stopped and stared into a window, "Should we buy a gift for Will too?"

Monique started to agree, but glanced into the store first and found they were in front of Victoria's Secret. "No," she hissed angrily.

Barb raised and eyebrow and looked suspicious.

"Why do I feel like everything you say to me is a test?" Monique demanded.

"Because it is," Barb admitted. Monique frowned. "Remember, I told you I would be honest with you if you were honest with me."

"Can you tell me if I'm passing or failing?"

"You're holding up very well. Either you are an amazing manipulative liar or I need to send a thank-you note to your friend Kim."

"We can stop at the stationary store before we meet Will."

Barb smiled, "I'm not assigning a passing grade until after a second visit. But I'll probably cancel the background check I planned to run on you next week."

Monique stared, open-mouthed. "You were going to do a background check on me?"

"I told you, I'll be honest with you."

"I'm not sure if you're a friend or an enemy."

"Neither yet," Barb reminded her, "and I'm not deciding now either. But I think we're going to be friends."

Monique doubted that would ever happen.

Will's father managed to say even less to Monique at supper than his mother.

And Will's father had left before Will and Monique made it downstairs the next day. His mother was upstairs getting dressed.

"How should we dress for the Stevensons?" Will asked.

"You two are off the hook," a well-dressed Barb told them.

"Off the hook?" Monique asked.

"You got excused from the 'event' Mom had wrangled invitations for. Why don't you take her in to Boston to walk the Freedom Trail or something," she suggested to Will.

"What do you mean, 'got excused'?" Monique wanted to know.

Barb sighed, "What she confided in me is that she needs more time to adjust to you before she introduces you to her friends. My fear is that she hopes the two of you will break up before that."

"That's--" Will blurted angrily.

"That's my interpretation," Barb quieted him. "I could be wrong. Remember, she said she's trying. Give her credit for effort. You might have given her a little more warning, Will."

Monique didn't mind a day spent exploring Boston with Will, with a lesson on eating a lobster properly and trip on the Red Line to Harvard Square.

As they sat down for breakfast the next morning Will observed, "Beautiful day for sailing."

"Twenty percent chance of a storm, you shouldn't go out," his mother warned.

"Eighty percent chance of a gorgeous day and a lot of fun," Barb pointed out.

"Wear a swim suit under your clothes," Barb told Monique. "We'll probably take a dip while we're out."

The boathouse smelled of disuse.

"Glad we had them check the boat over," Barb said critically.

"The folks should get rid of the boat if they aren't going to use it."

"Why don't they use it?" Monique asked.

"We had a brother who died in an accident while sailing," Barb explained.

"Disappeared," Will corrected her.

"And we don't know it was an accident," Barb snapped. "Drop it."

Monique stayed out of the siblings' exchange and stood to the side as they checked things over. "I expected a yacht or something."

"You don't sail a yacht," Will laughed. "A crew handles it for you."

"Speaking of crew," Barbara saluted her brother, "what are your orders today, Captain?"

"I thought we'd go out a few miles, down the coast aways, into town for a late lunch and home for dinner."

His sister nodded agreement, and Monique asked, "What about me?"

"You're passenger, but we'll give you some lessons once we're out on the ocean.

Will and Barb raised the jib and main sails on the sloop-rigged vessel and Will dropped the center board in place as they headed out to sea.

The next couple hours were one of the most beautiful moments of Monique's life.

"Will is tacking to the northeast at the moment," Barb explained. "Wind is from the north, so he can't sail too close." The older woman also explained the names for various parts of the vessel, and let her handle the sheets to trim the sails.

Monique had almost begun to feel comfortable when the wind suddenly dropped and Barb gave a loud, "Bloody hell!" and called Will's attention away from Monique to a bank of ugly black clouds rolling in fast from the east. "Mom's twenty percent just hit a hundred."

"You want to—" Will started.

"Take us back!" Barb barked.

Monique remembered Will telling her Barb was the better sailor, and wished the woman had taken the tiller.

"Monique, get on a life jacket," Will called. He changed heading and brought the sloop around before the east wind hit.

"What now?" the black woman asked.

"Lie flat."

"Lie flat?"

"What are you doing?" Barb demanded.

"Jibing south, going to run us in."

"What did he say?" Monique asked Barb.

"He said lie flat." Barb gritted her teeth and hoped Will knew what he was doing.

Monique did as instructed, and learned why a minute later.

"Ready to jibe," Will called.

"Ready," Barb answered.

"Jibe ho!" The boom on the main sail whipped across the deck.

Barb scrambled forward, "I'm dropping the jib!"

"Thanks."

They jibed twice more before the rain hit, and what had seemed a perfect day quickly transformed into hell.

"Why's he doing this?" Monique asked as Barb lay close to her as the boom swept over them.

"He thinks he's got more stability jibing than tacking in rough water."

Barb's attempts to calm Monique's fears did little to help Monique's fears when she heard Barb grilling her brother a minute later. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Once we're in position to run in we can go a lot faster than if I tried broad reach in."

"Yeah, if you don't run us aground or broach us. Reaching would be safer."

"Trust me."

The rain poured down on them. Monique began to worry about drowning while onboard ship. "We're going to start our run in now."

Monique wished she knew what he meant, but his voice sounded optimistic. Barb dispelled that illusion. "How the hell do you know?"

"Trust me!"

"Need a straight answer, Will, or you face a mutiny."

"New Global Justice GPS, best one available."

"Hope the damn thing's waterproof."

"So do I."

Running, as it appeared to Monique, meant the wind almost directly behind them and going faster in the stiff breeze than they had any time earlier in the day.

"You can sit up, if you want," Barb told her.

"Are we safe now?"

"Only if my brother has a good way for us to stop."

"What?"

"Sailboats don't have brakes."

Barb's comments made Monique fear the storm even more. The young woman had no idea how fast they were traveling, but might have guessed a hundred miles an hour.

"Can you see anything," Barb asked anxiously.

"Enough," Will called, "get ready to drop sail in a couple minutes."

Lowering the sail slowed the boat. With visibility poor his sister couldn't tell if Will was a genius or a fool, then she saw the outline of the boat house through the driving rain. They virtually drifted in the last twenty feet, but that was much better than moving by too quickly. The siblings laughed loudly as they jumped on the dock and secured lines to the cleats. Will gave a hand to Monique from the boat and the three scrambled to the boat house, where a hysterical mother waited for them with a pile of towels. The towels were ignored as she grabbed her two children and held them tightly.

Barb gave her mother a minute to calm down, then slipped out of her grasp and tossed a towel to Monique and began to dry her own face and hair with another.

They waited fifteen minutes, hoping the rain would end. The rain gave no hint of stopping and the trio who had been out on the boat wanted dry clothing so the four headed up to the house.

"We'll have you out again tomorrow, or the day after," Will promised Monique as they trudged through the downpour."

"Please, no," his mother requested.

"Got to agree with your mom," Monique told him.

"Thank you, dear," Mrs. Du managed to say.

As Monique toweled off she reflected that Barb had said nothing of her own sailing abilities, preferring to let Will have the spotlight. She wondered if Will would have given his sister the same benefit if the roles were reversed. It wasn't a bad family, they just weren't as open and welcoming as her own.

Other than the one 'dear' on the afternoon of the storm Linda Du never used the term towards Monique again, and her discomfort around the young black woman remained obvious.

Monique related very well to feeling uncomfortable. Most of the household staff was African-American – including Charles whose faint British accent came from his upbringing in Jamaica. Monique, who had no experience with servants, didn't like asking for things, and felt like they resented her when she did.

And so the week dragged slowly on to its inevitable end. Monique felt slighted by Will's parents, minutely scrutinized by his sister, ignored by the servants, and too often ignored by Will.

Will took her along when he went to see acquaintances and neighbors, but Monique could never feel a part of the gathering. Still, she did get a thrill at a neighbor's house as she looked across the crowded room and saw a familiar face. She nudged Will, "That's Ted Kennedy!" she whispered.

He glanced over, "I don't think so."

Monique stared harder. "I'm sure that's Ted Kennedy."

Will looked again, a little longer. "You're right. I'm sorry, I didn't recognize him sober… Would you like an introduction?"

Monique stared at Will, "You know him?"

"Not well. His niece lives next door to this house."

"You have a Kennedy in your neighborhood!"

"Her name isn't Kennedy. And it's no big deal. They're a large family. You'll find his relatives in half the better neighborhoods in Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island."

To Monique the fact the Senator remembered Will's name seemed even more impressive than Will being able to introduce her.

By the end of the trip Monique found herself anxious to return home.

The cabin in the small plane was quiet enough for normal conversation. "That went very well, didn't it?" Will said cheerfully as they reached cruising altitude for the first leg of the trip back.

Monique looked at him, hoping to catch some indication that he was being ironic. It had been one of the most harrowing weeks of her life. Was he suffering from his old inability to read people, or had he projected his optimism for what he wanted to happen onto the grim reality?

"I'm not sure I'd say it went very well… I'd probably not even say well. You didn't notice your Dad sneaking out of rooms to avoid talking with me, or your Mom acting like I wasn't there at dinner conversations?"

"I'm sure you're imagining that."

_"Denial and projected optimism,"_ Monique thought to herself. "Maybe I'm just tired. It was a stressful week for me."

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "Can we stop anywhere for a romantic candlelit dinner on the way back? We can phone your mother and say we'll be a little late getting you home." _"I have an important question I want to ask."_

"Thanks, but what I know for certain is that I'm tired. I just want to get home and get a good night's sleep in my own bed."

Will fell silent for about fifty miles. Monique, unsure how much concentration he needed for flying, watched clouds. This was assuredly not the time or place he had planned, but there was no time like the present.

"I hear a rattling sound," Will told her.

"I don't hear anything."

"I've got very good ears. It sounds like it is coming from underneath your seat. There is a sliding compartment down there with some charts in it. Could you check it for me?"

Wondering what Will imagined he heard; Monique pulled the compartment open. "There's some sort of little box in here."

"Open it. What is it?"

Monique opened the small box and stared, _"OMG look at the size of that rock."_

Will waited thirty seconds, "Well? Will you?"

Monique closed the box and put it back into the chart compartment, closing the drawer.

He waited a little longer, "Monique? Will you?"

"Not a good time to ask," she snapped. "I'm stressed out, and I'm not planning on accepting any proposals until after college."

"But you don't need to finish college if you—"

"Not a good time to ask," she repeated even more emphatically. She punctuated her comment by turning away from him and closing her eyes.

He managed to honor her request for silence for almost seventy-five miles.

"Maybe later?" he asked softly.

"Maybe much later," she responded.

Will grinned and let her nap. She hadn't said no.


	11. Family Matters

Disney owns everything Kim Possible.

**Family Matters**

"That lady called again," Marty hollered as Monique entered the apartment.

"That lady?"

"The one who called yesterday - and the day before. I told her I gave you the messages. And she left her number -_ again_."

Monique didn't need the new note - she already had Barb's phone number written on two slips of paper on her desk. At least Will's persistence ran in the family.

"I'll call her now," Monique told her brother and went into her bedroom. She crossed her fingers and hoped Barb wasn't as penetrating over the phone as she managed in person.

Will's sister fired her opening salvo immediately, "Why haven't you been out with Will since you were out here?"

"I'm not… Meeting the family… Seeing… It just brought back all my worries. We're so different. I don't see how it can work."

"Oh, strong reasons not to see Will. Were the two of you getting along before the trip?"

"Well, yeah."

"And my family is oh, so scary that a woman with brains and a backbone is a afraid of them?"

"Look, your family… I don't want to say this… I mean, I don't think your parents treated me well."

"My parents tried very hard to like you."

"They didn't do a very good job of it!"

"How would you know! You've never met them before. You don't know what 'normal' is for them. They were trying. Gee, sorry my folks didn't meet your high standards for being welcoming."

"You're not being fair to me."

"You're not being fair to my family. Look racism runs deep in society. Most times we aren't even aware of it - we think it doesn't effect us until we're using an ATM at night and someone comes in and we're nervous if they're black or think everything's fine if they're white."

Monique conceded the point, "Yeah, and that's not limited to whites either."

"Mom and dad tried. And you were a bit of a surprise. Let's dump some blame on Will. He might have said something ahead of time."

"Your folks were really trying?"

"Yes."

"I'll believe you. I just, I don't know, hoped meeting them would go better."

"Is that the end of the trouble?"

"No… I feel like Will neglected me. He went places to see friends and family. And I didn't get to spend as much time with him as I'd hoped."

"I think you got dumped off on his odious sister one day."

Monique laughed. "His sister isn't too bad. A little pushy, but I think she's pretty decent."

"Look, it's not my place to say if he neglected you or not. You were in a new place - you deserved some extra attention. But he doesn't get home much and he wanted to see some people. Sometimes he neglects of the feelings of others."

"Don't I know," Monique groaned. "But he was getting better before the trip."

"What? He's getting better and you dump him for wanting to see old friends? Now who is being unfair?"

Monique turned serious for a minute, "He proposed on the way back."

"And?"

"And? And I turned him down."

"A guy thinks he loves you so much he asks you to marry him and you show your opinion by dumping him?"

"I'm not dumping him," Monique insisted. "I just need some time to think."

"Your reasons sound really weak. If I didn't know you I'd say you're scared."

"Okay then, you don't know me. 'Cause I'm scared."

Barb took a softer tone, "What scares you?"

"I'm scared because I do like him. But he seems like he always has to have his way… I didn't plan on going out with him, but he kept asking me out. I mean; he was so shy he didn't know what to do when I finally started to like him, but he got his way. It seems like we always do what he wants. He didn't talk with me about marriage he just hit me with it. He's a hard man to say no to."

"That's Will," Barb agreed. "But you like him?"

"Yeah. He treats like a princess. But he's the king and he knows what's best for me."

"Serious talk."

"What?"

"You need a serious talk with him. Tell him how you feel. If he can compromise you'll both be happy. If he can't compromise… Well, you'll have a better reason for dumping him than you have now."

"I'm not dumping him!"

"You calling him then?"

"As soon as we're off the phone," Monique promised.

Will preferred the modern booths at the front of Columbia to Kenya to the scruffy mélange of tables and battered booths in the back Kim and Shego liked.

"Sorry I've been turning you down lately," she apologized as Tony took their order.

"New semester starting, and you work. I know it's hard. Of course, if you'd marry me you wouldn't have to--"

"Stop," Monique ordered. "We need to talk. I'm a sophomore in college. I'm not going to get married until after I graduate. Maybe not until after I get my MBA."

"But if you don't need to work?"

She snorted, "Momma thought she didn't need to. After Dad died she wish she had better skills."

"If I got killed my estate would--"

"And if we got divorced?"

"I don't believe in divorce."

"Then you'd better marry carefully," she warned.

"I've found the woman I love."

"You were going to marry the first girl you fell in love with?"

"Yes… Isn't that the way it is supposed to happen?"

She sighed, "

She waited until Tony had set down their orders before shooting him a dirty look. "You don't know much about love… Look, I didn't want a steady boyfriend. I just wanted to date different guys, have some fun -- decide what I was looking for. And you came along. Will, you've got no experience. You think you love me 'cause I'm the first girl you ever kissed. I wish you'd date some other girls, it would give you some perspective."

He looked hurt, "Are you saying I can't see you any more?"

She put her hand down on top of his and gently squeezed, "No, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying I didn't want a steady boyfriend -- but I met this great guy. And sometimes I worry that he thinks he loves me because he doesn't know any better."

His fingers interlaced with hers and they smiled at each other across the booth. "I think he loves you because you are wonderful, and he doesn't need to date other girls to know that."

"If he really loves me he needs to listen to me. He doesn't always do a good job."

"The work thing?"

"Yeah, the 'work thing' is part of it. It means a lot to me, Will. You have to accept that."

"I'll try," he nodded glumly.

"And I'm serious about the college too… Will, I don't know where you see us going… Okay, you see us as man and wife. I mean, where do you see us in a couple months? What do you expect? I don't want go to bed with a guy until I'm married. And I don't want to get married now… I lost a couple boyfriends who were pressuring me. I maybe went further with one of them than I should…" She'd been staring nervously into her coffee cup. She raised her eyes and found Will smiling.

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. "I always thought my wedding night should be my first time. I'll wait until you're ready. I'll wait as long as it takes."

"Look, I don't care if you date other women. It will be years before I'm ready for marriage!"

"But I'm not allowed to be patient?"

"You're being stubborn. You don't know the future. You may change your mind."

"People can change their minds?" he asked in a puzzled tone.

"Yes," she snapped. "It happens all the time. No one knows the future."

He suddenly gave her a big grin, "So, you might change yours and elope with me tomorrow?"

Monique giggled, pulled his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers. "I do like you. If you still want to marry me, you can ask after I graduate--"

"Bachelor's, or that MBA you are talking about."

Monique hesitated, "Bachelor's at the very least. Ask me again in two years."

"But, since you are equally capable of changing your mind I anticipate asking you every week."

Monique laughed, "Annually?"

"Monthly?"

"Quarterly?"

He nodded his acceptance. "So, can I ask--"

"You had this quarter's proposal on the plane."

"Oh, right."

She kissed his fingers again. "I'm sorry I've been turning. I've never dated anyone quite like you, and sometimes it scares me a little."

"Well, you know I've never dated anyone like you either," he reminded her. "But I love it. Can we do anything after coffee? Movie?"

"I'd like to do something, but can't think of a movie I want to see. Bowling alley would just be leagues tonight. Two clubs in town… but you aren't ready for them."

"Anything at the U?"

"A concert I didn't get tickets for… Uh, Will, no one has ever taken me to the Green."

"The Green? What's that?"

"It's an open area in the middle of the main quad at the U. At night it's sort of a notorious spot for couples to make out." She gave his fingers a slow kiss, "That is, if you want me to make it up to you for neglecting you the last couple weeks." Her tongue licked slowly across his knuckles.

In his haste to leave C2K with Monique, Will tossed a bill to Tony and told him to keep the change. It was the largest tip Tony ever received.

* * *

The two began seeing each other again on a regular basis.

Cat surprised Monique one Saturday by being in Club Banana when the black woman arrived to open.

"This was your day off."

"Was it? How did I miss that. Hey, as long as I'm here let me help you open."

Shortly after the store opened Will walked in, a briefcase chained to his wrist, and Cat called, "Don't keep her out too late. She'll work tomorrow instead of me."

"What's going on?" Mon demanded as Will took her arm and steered her out the door towards the parking lot.

"I have to make a little delivery," he explained, holding up the briefcase, "and I asked Ms Tyler if you could accompany me."

"Did you think to ask me?"

"I had the impression during a recent conversation that you would welcome a little spontaneity."

In the car she asked, "Just where is this delivery, Sherlock?"

"Sacramento."

"Sacramento? As in California?"

"Is there another?"

He unlocked the case from his wrist when they reached the airport. Monique took the co-pilot's seat in the cabin.

After landing in California Will taxied to a hanger and pulled out a cell phone. "Yes, this is William Du, I've arrived. … Hanger 14G. … Perfect, I'll see you in ten minutes."

"You didn't need to make a phone call," Monique remarked, pointing out the window, "there's a man in a uniform coming over now."

Will glanced out the window, swore a small oath under his breath, and quickly put one end of the handcuff on his own wrist and the other on Monique.

Since he could only use one hand the US Marshall provided a little help getting the door of the small plane open. Will handed the man the case, and a clipboard with a form indicating he accepted custody of the evidence.

"I'm, ah, transporting a prisoner also," Will added lamely.

The Marshall raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. No detention compartment, and no other agent. I'm not going to ask how you flew a plane with one hand cuffed, but standard procedure is for the prisoner's right hand to be cuffed to the officer's left."

"Will!" she hissed and bumped her shoulder against him.

The other man laughed, "Have fun, kids," and headed for his car.

"Are you going to get in trouble for bringing me?" she demanded.

"No, I checked with Dr. Director and Global Justice rules allow it. I didn't want to look unprofessional."

"You certainly managed that. Now, where's the key?"

"Key?"

"Yes, the key. Where is it?"

He feigned a startled look, "Didn't I give it to you?"

"No, you didn't."

"You think I'm lying to you?"

"The thought entered my mind."

"Would you care to frisk me?"

"Will, I'm serious."

"Okay," he sighed. "Uh-oh."

"I don't like that sound."

"Ah, the key is in my right front pants' pocket. With the cuff on I can't reach in with my right hand…"

Monique was fishing around in Will's pocket when a rental car pulled up. The driver kept his thoughts to himself as he handed Will a key and began hiking back to the terminal.

"What now?" Monique asked as he held the car door open for her.

"A picnic lunch at the Elkhorn Boat Launch, talk a little while and then I take you home."

"We can buy lunch there?"

"Um, there should be a large gourmet picnic hamper from Dean & DeLuca in the trunk."

"Somehow this seems too well planned to be spontaneous."

"It takes me at least a week of planning to be spontaneous," he admitted.

Monique didn't know what 'gourmet picnic hamper' meant, but found herself impressed.

"You look tired," she told him as they finished lunch. "Lie down and close your eyes for a minute, rest your head on my lap."

The warm day, full stomach, and a grueling work schedule put him to sleep almost immediately. Monique smiled down at him and softly ran her fingers through his hair. She caught herself wondering what their children might look like, and realized with a start that if he opened his eyes that second and asked, 'Marry me,' she might say 'yes'.

She leaned back against the trunk of the oak which shaded them and unsuccessfully tried to think about school assignments. She had a little better luck dozing off and taking a short nap of her own.

"Will," she began as he flew her home, "Momma said I could ask you to eat Thanksgiving dinner with us -- if you want to."

"I would love it."

_"Good then you get to see how family is supposed to act."_

* * *

When Will accepted her invitation for Thanksgiving Monique felt thrilled. As the day approached, however, the idea appeared less and less attractive. Will already got along fine with her Momma, Colin loved him, and Martin tolerated Will fairly well. The rest of the family… Would uncle Louis show up sober? Monique tried to remember if uncle Jack had remarried. The last girlfriend she could remember had been younger than Jack's two oldest kids. Dinner wouldn't be pretty.

The cousins were almost as bad. One of the two winners was in college out-of-state, and the other had found excuses the last two years to avoid the family celebration. Monique suddenly realized the absence was deliberate.

"Um, Momma?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Is there any way you could call uncle Louis, and, I don't know, suggest he not have anything to drink before Thanksgiving dinner?"

"Child, I would love it if Louie showed up dry, but it's his way of dealing with Jack and his kids. I'm not going to ask him to give up his defense mechanism."

Before dinner Monique heard Martin requesting he be allowed to go to the Community Center after dinner.

"Is it open on Thanksgiving?" Momma asked.

"Yeah, the gym opens late and closes early, but they'll be open. Going to have dinner for the homeless in the kitchen. Please, Momma?"

"I need you here, Marty. Monique has company so I need you to help in the kitchen."

The relatives were too busy devouring everything they could reach to prove embarrassing early in the evening. Monique crossed her fingers and hoped it might last. It didn't.

Uncle Louis started trouble when he asked Will, "What do you call three hundred white guys chasing a black man?"

"Um, a mob?"

"Nah, the PGA tour."

Uncle Jack offered his own take, "What's a bunch of white guys sitting on a bench?"

Will shook his head, indicating he had no idea.

"The NBA."

It degenerated from there, eventually getting into honky jokes.

When Jack asked, "What twelve-inches long and white?" Monique grabbed Will and pulled him into the kitchen,

"Take him to the Center and play basketball with him," she ordered Martin.

"Momma told me to help in here."

"I'll work in here. Take Will. Now. Go!"

Marty accepted custody of Will and the two were on their way in minutes.

"So, what's with you and Sis," Marty asked as they walked to the Center.

"I hope to marry her someday."

"Really," Marty chuckled. "You two just don't fit. Too different. Still, I'm not the one you want to marry."

"What are your plans? You're a senior, right?"

"Yeah. Got my application in to the Air Force Academy. I want to fly. Mon says you're a pilot."

"You're welcome to come up with me if you wish. What are your chances at the Academy?"

"Don't know. Grades are probably just good enough. Helps if you've got a little pull. Got letters of recommendations from Dad's old CO's, but they're army. Dad's brother wrote a letter too, but he's Navy." Marty changed the subject, "Any good at b-ball?"

"I fear I lack proficiency at any team sport."

"Well, there are usually plenty of people there. You can watch if you don't want to play."

But with only six other players on the court when they arrived Will felt pressured to play. And as the 'new guy' his teammates assigned him to guard 'Tiny' Tim Thomas. Tiny dropped out of school years earlier at sixteen. Just over six feet, five inches tall and almost three hundred pounds of muscle. He hustled to get by - eleven arrests, no convictions (no one would testify against him in court, for fear of later vengeance).

Since he didn't know the rules Will committed a variety of fouls, but then so did Tiny. The match up appeared to be a gnat against a tank, but Will had stamina and Tiny was sweating like a pig as the game wore on.

Marty came home alone about the time uncle Louis's family left.

"Where's Will?"

"He stayed at the Center. Tiny said he wanted to show him some moves."

"You left him with Tiny? Keep your coat on, we're going back."

"What's the hurry," Martin asked, struggling to keep up.

"You probably called Will my boyfriend, right?"

"Yeah, what's the problem?"

"I've never told you how Tiny has been hitting on me for years, have I?"

"Huh? Why didn't you?"

"'Cause I can say 'no' all by myself. And if you got some idiot idea about 'defending my honor' Tiny would snap you in half."

Will and Tiny sat on the bleachers at the side of the gym. Will's left eye was already turning purple, but Tiny appeared to have taken more punishment.

"What happened?" Monique demanded as she hurried over.

"What happens at the Center, stays at the Center," Tiny whispered to Will.

"Mr. Thomas gave me a lesson in some of the sport's finer points," Will explained.

"Tiny wouldn't know a fine point if it bit him," Monique muttered as she examined Will's eye. He winced in pain as Monique touched it softly. Martin caught up with Mon and joined the other three.

"Yo, Marty, for a white-assed skinny dude, this guy's okay," Tiny laughed. He made a fist and held it up in Will's direction. The Global Justice agent stared at it.

"Mon, your boyfriend is broken, _again_," Marty warned.

Monique pressed her lips together tightly, took Will's hand and closed the fingers into the fist, and raised his arms so his fist tapped Tiny's.

Will and Monique lagged behind Marty as the three headed home. "What really happened," she repeated.

"A small fight," Will admitted.

"He could have killed you!"

"No, I suspect he merely wanted to intimidate me. But he relies on his size and strength instead of science."

"You beat him?"

"We called it a draw. He realized he couldn't win, and I had no desire to continue a fight I had not started."

Monique took his arm and snuggled close as they walked. "You're incredible."

They sat on the couch in the living room after the guests had left and the rest of the family turned in.

"I'm sorry I made you go through that," Monique apologized.

"It was vastly more entertaining than Thanksgiving dinner at home. My parents next year?"

"I don't think I could take that," Monique shuddered. "I'd be too afraid of using the wrong fork or some other _faux pas_."

"So you want Thanksgiving here again next year?"

"No way! Tell you what. If we're still going together in a year we'll start our own tradition. Maybe one of those Dean & DeLuca hampers on some warm sunny beach. What do you say?"

* * *

Talking with Kim allowed Monique to see someone with greater problems than her own.

"I've really messed my life up, haven't I?" Kim asked.

Monique considered lying, but couldn't. So she changed the subject, "What's happening with Shego?"

"Don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I mean, I got a weird letter from her; said I might not hear from her for a little while, but I shouldn't worry."

"Not hear from her? Do you think she's going to break out of prison?"

Kim nervously drummed her fingers on the small table at the food court. "I don't know. I want to see her. But I don't know if she can get out of the special cell she's in… And if she breaks out she'll come here to see me, and Global Justice knows that too. I don't know what to do."

"How about the other, uh, problem," Monique asked cautiously, nodding towards the reason for Kim's maternity wear. "You count that with the messing up your life?"

"Not sure… When she got shot I went crazy with fear she was going to die. Ron is great, he's letting people think he's the father. You're great. Even Bonnie is great -- but I'll deny I said that if you tell her."

Monique grinned, "And your Mom and Dad have hired her to work with you as a nanny?"

"Yeah, they're fixing up an old house for us. It's sort of an investment property for my folks. I haven't seen it yet - there are contractors working on it… I think there'll be room for a couple more people… Want to move in with us?"

Monique hesitated. Moving out of her small apartment would be nice. And Momma's questions were getting a little too personal. "What kind of rent are you talking?"

"Um, need to ask my Dad."

"Well, if your Dad sees it as investment property I don't… Hey, it can't hurt to ask him. It would be fun if I can swing it."

The pre-Christmas rush at Club Banana kept Monique too busy to think about Kim's offer. On the twenty-third a call came in for her as the store neared closing time.

"Monique," Cat called, "got a call about a nail appointment -- she says it's an emergency and you need to talk with her."

"Got to be wrong number," Monique shouted back from where she was helping a woman pick out ski jackets for grandchildren.

Cat spoke into the receiver for a minute, then called back, "She says to tell you it's a Miss Green."

"I don't even know a…" Monique's jaw dropped. "I'm sorry," she told the customer, "I have to take this." Mon found a clerk who wasn't busy, "Help Mrs. Webb," she ordered. "Cat! I'm taking it in the break room."

Monique ran for the back of the store and grabbed the phone. "Shego! What's going on? Where are you?"

"Slow down. I'm in Middleton--"

"You're with Kim?"

"No. Kim doesn't know. And you can't tell her."

"Say what?"

"Look, I'm with Betty Director and--"

"Who?"

"Betty Director, head of Global Justice. I'm sort of in custody. But Betty--"

Monique could hear another woman's voice in the background, "Don't call me Betty!"

"--thinks I may be able to post bail."

"That's great! But I can't tell Kim?"

"Well, I don't want to get her hopes if they won't let me post bail. And I have my own little surprise planned if they do."

"So, why did you call me?"

"Well, I'll need a place to crash for a few hours tomorrow before going over to the Possible's and--"

"Please, come on over. I'm working, but Momma has the day off and remembers you. And I want to hear why you're out."

"Not in front of etty-Bay here," Shego whispered.

The other woman's voice could be heard, "And don't call me that either."

Monique danced out of the backroom with a huge smile on her face; the biggest problem would be not calling Kim to share the news.

When she called the Possibles after Christmas Dr. Possible told Monique that Kim had gone to Chicago with Shego to meet the older woman's family and would be gone until the New Year.

Roughly a week after that Bonnie, Kim, and Shego showed Monique around the old house.

"It's huge…" she managed to stammer.

"Bathrooms are still a mess," Bonnie pointed out, "but the place is looking a lot better now."

The brunette was smiling so broadly that Monique had to ask Kim, "Why's she so happy about the bathrooms needing work?"

"Well, the bathrooms will be fixed soon, but it could be how much work Shego and her brothers have done to get this place ready. But I think it's the fact two of Shego's brothers are fighting over her."

"What do you say, 'Nique," Shego interrupted, "going to take Kim's offer? Speak up now and you get to choose paint color for your bedroom. We paint this weekend. But you're invited to the painting party even if you don't move in."

"I'm taking college seriously," Monique said slowly. "You all are not thinking giant slumber party are you?"

"No," Kim assured her.

"Got to remember, everyone will lose some sleep after the babies are born," Shego warned her.

"And I want Ron to move in," Bonnie added. "Hey, just to cook," she added defensively.

Monique grinned. She'd heard Kim and Shego discuss the Bonnie-Ron-Yori triangle. Kim knew Ron loved Yori. Shego thought Bonnie liked Ron and placed her money on propinquity. The green woman hoped for a Bachelor's in English lit and was sometimes annoying with her vocabulary - why couldn't she just say she thought Bonnie would win because she was closer? Monique now tolerated Bonnie, but trusted Ron's faithfulness. It might be fun to see Bonnie taken down a couple notches when she failed to win his attention.

Will volunteered to help Monique paint her room. She drafted Martin and his girlfriend. Martin looked forward to Colin moving into Monique's former tiny bedroom so that their shared bedroom could be his alone. Her brother spent more time looking around the old house and talking with this steady than he did painting, but he still contributed to the effort.

They weren't able to move in until the next weekend. Monique rented U-Haul van and Will helped her move to Casa Possible. Mon avoided Bonnie's room where they could hear her giving Ron orders to try moving the furnishings into every possible location. Kim and Shego had not had time to purchase much furniture yet, and with Kim eight months pregnant Shego did the lifting and carrying.

For a student of human nature adjusting to the houseful of friends provided endless amusement. Kim and Shego, who had 'dated' for months found that actually living with the other required more compromise than either knew how to manage. But Monique saw they cared for each other, and their daughters, and hoped they could work through their problems. Bonnie clearly showed an interest in Ron, but Monique felt it wasn't entirely reciprocated -- although as a straight male Ron certainly paid attention to the pretty woman throwing herself at him.

During the Saturday night poker parties Will turned out to be surprisingly good. Shego might have been almost as good, which surprised no one, but Will's ability to win consistently seemed amazing. What Monique appreciated more than anything else was the fact he seemed to fit in better with each passing week. She could not be certain if Will learned to relax and unwind, or if she and the others were simply becoming more accustomed to his eccentricities.

In the Spring Will begged her to fly out to the coast for a long weekend. "Birthday for one of the relatives on the rich side of the family. There'll be lots of dancing and I want to be on the floor with you."

"Wait, you aren't the rich side of the family?" Monique asked in stunned disbelief.

"Great-grandfather had three wives. Children by the first wife are the rich side. Not that we have anything to complain about. He even included the children he had with the servants in the will. We all know how to invest and work. The only branch of family I ever heard lost money were the ones who backed the losing side in the Civil War -- too much money in Confederate bonds."

Barb was there when Monique arrived, but didn't stay. "Kenneth is home for a couple months, and while I need to get to know you better my husband comes first."

"Does that mean I won't see you?"

"Oh, you'll see me," Will's sister promised, "just not as much."

Will tried to pay more attention to Monique and she tried to give him space to see the people he knew while he was there. And, even if their efforts were not wholly satisfying to either, it did go more smoothly than the earlier visit.

Barb came over the day before the party and demanded to see the dress Monique planned on wearing.

"Why?"

Barb raised an eyebrow, "Because this is your first introduction to the larger family and you want to create the perfect impression. You staying in the same room as last time?"

"Yes."

"I'll be up in fifteen minutes to see you in it."

_"There is nothing wrong with this dress,"_ Monique told herself as Barb looked her over. _"I will wear it."_

"You can't wear that."

"Why not? What's wrong with it?"

"Not a Du family birthday party outfit. Too sophisticated - you'll draw attention to yourself."

"That's not fair, I--"

"Monique, when you walk through the door on Will's arm you're going to have every eye in the place on you. You know that, don't you?"

The black woman nodded her head yes.

"Then trust me. You need to be understated. You don't want to give anyone any reason for what they may be thinking."

"Um, this is what I brought with me for the party. I don't know if I can--"

"Let me buy a new dress for you."

"You going to buy clothes for me every time I'm out here? It makes me think you don't like my taste."

"You've got great taste - you can help me pick something out if we have time. But you want _exactly_ the right thing when you meet 'the family' and I want an excuse to spend the morning with you and we can have lunch together." Barb dangled another bribe in front of Monique, "I'll tell you the stories of Will's childhood he doesn't want you to hear."

Monique smiled, "Okay, you can buy me a dress."

"Maybe shoes too, let's make a day of it. We'll shop until we have to get ready for the party."

Monique could have spent the day with Barb and skipped the party completely. Discussing it made her uneasy.

The morning of the party they hit five stores looking for the perfect dress, counting the one they walked out of because the staff ignored Mon.

"Shoes and a clutch after lunch," Barb promised. "And you can help me decide on a couple things for me."

Monique stared in horror at the prices on the menu as Barb made recommendations. "The French onion soup and New England clam chowder are both incredible. I usually have a cup of one with a half sandwich and the lobster salad." Noticing Monique's expression she signaled a waiter. As he approached the table Barb reached across and took Monique's menu, handing it to the waiter, "Bring her a date menu."

"What was that about?" Monique hissed as the waiter left.

Barb went back to reading her own menu, "You were too anxious about prices. Can't be like that if you're out with a Du. He'll bring you a menu without the prices marked. You've got to order whatever looks good to you. Or I can order for you, your choice."

"You know what's good, I'll trust you."

Barb smiled, and gave the waiter their order when he returned. She ordered a cup of the French onion, and the chowder; she and Monique switched halfway through lunch so the younger woman could try both.

"I'm going to tell you something that you may _not_ repeat to anyone in my family," Barb said as she waited for the check.

"I don't know if I want to hear anything like that."

"You're going to anyway. First, I need to confide in. You're ideal, you live far enough away you won't accidentally let anything slip in front of a family friend. And you're smart enough to figure out another reason." Barb looked at Monique, who thought for a minute before trying to pass the test.

"Offering to share a secret with me means you think I'm trustworthy. I will admire your judgment and, in return, be more willing to spill my guts to you."

"I might not have expressed it so honestly," Barb laughed, "but you're right." She fell silent for a minute. "You have my permission to marry Will someday if you wish." She fell silent again. Monique looked at her with a puzzled expression. "Ever wondered why Kenneth and I don't have any children?"

"I, uh, sort of figure it's none of my business."

"You're right - not that it stops most people. And if you become family someday you might be tempted to ask. Every family gathering I have cousins, aunts, and uncles wondering when it will happen. I finally told Mother and Father to stop asking, Kenneth and I will have children when we're ready, not when they want grandchildren. But I feel the question in their eyes whenever I visit."

"You should be able to wait until you're ready. It isn't anyone else's business."

Barb sighed, "We've been ready for three years. We've been to doctors - they tell us everything is in working order… But nothing's working…"

Silence hung over the table. "I'm sorry," Monique finally managed, "I just don't know what to say."

"Nothing you can say. But I need a few people I can talk with when it gets overwhelming. There are times I want to scream in frustration. I can't do it to Kenneth; he's as upset about it as I am. And I don't want to tell Mother or Father."

"You should."

Barb shot her a quizzical look, "You've met them. I love my parents dearly, but they are more likely to raise my stress level than help it if I try and share with them."

"If you need an ear, I'm available."

"Thanks, I'll try to not be too great a burden. Expect a call on the subject every couple months."

The rest of the day passed quickly. Monique felt guilty about letting Barb pay for things, but accepted it as part of the price of dating Will. Barb also asked for her help in finding a couple outfits, and while Monique suspected it was another test she also felt like she passed.

Will was waiting impatiently on the porch of his parents' home for their return. Barb didn't even turn off the car as he came down to help with bags, "Got to get home to change," she told Monique.

The black woman looked through some sacks to decide whose clothes were whose, and Barb called to her brother, "Don't let her get away. You definitely got lucky."

"I've got no intention of letting her go," Will told his sister.

"Do I get any say in this?" Monique interrupted.

"You are free to say yes at any time. Any 'no's will be filed for verification - although I fear the review process is rather lengthy. It could take years for them to pass through the system."

"See you later," Monique called to Barb as she shut the car door,

The black woman dressed quickly, and was pleased to see Will's mother smile and nod in approval when she saw the dress. As they rode to the hotel whose ballroom had been rented for the party a question arose. "How should we introduce you to people? Will's mom asked nervously. "Will's friend sounds rather casual… What would you prefer?"

"Tell people she's my fiancé," Will suggested.

His mother looked startled and Monique swatted him on the arm. "I would be happy to have you introduce me as Will's friend," she assured the older woman. "And I am not engaged to your son."

"But an offer has been tendered," Will told his parents.

They both made mental notes to make greater efforts to get to know Monique.

Once at the party, however, Will made such an effort to keep Monique on the dance floor that there was little opportunity to introduce her.

Monique smiled as she stole glances at other couples. She still didn't count Will as a great dancer, but they were among the better dancers there.

He seemed to pick up on the good vibrations, "Happy?" he whispered as he held her in his arms during a slow number.

"Very," she responded softly, resting her head against his shoulder.

When they paused for refreshments someone pulled Will aside for a short conversation Monique couldn't hear. He looked slightly annoyed when he joined her by the punch bowl. "Can I abandon you for a little while? I've got someone desperate to talk with me about some investment. I'm hoping it just takes a couple minutes. You can come with me if you want."

"I'll pass. Come back to me as soon as you can."

Barb nudged her husband, who asked Monique for a dance. After that the black woman stayed by a wall close to the refreshment tables and felt largely ignored. Barb and Kenneth were dancing, Will's dad was nowhere to be seen, and his mother was with a number of older women and Monique would have felt badly out of place. At one point a teenage boy headed her way, but his mother called him back sharply.

"So, how serious are you and young William?"

Startled, Monique turned to find a small elderly woman with thick glasses and jewelry which Monique had trouble believing could be real -- although in this gathering she assumed it was. "Excuse me, I didn't--"

"You heard me just fine, you can't believe I'm that nosey." The woman stuck out her hand, "Rose Collings, family historian and busybody. You and young William will be the talk of the family for weeks. Poor Bree will never forgive you for upstaging her at her birthday party. I'd like to get the facts straight. Now, you and young William?"

Monique didn't know how to respond. Being told to her face she would be the subject of gossip was both annoying and refreshingly honest. And, in the hope that Rose Collings might be as interested as presenting the straight facts as she claimed to be in gathering them Monique gave her a circumspect version of her friendship with Will.

Barb headed over to rescue Monique at the end of the dance, but Rose waved her away, "I'm not done with her yet."

"You okay, Mon?"

"I'm fine. I'm hoping after she's done grilling me that she'll give me some family history."

Rose laughed and grabbed on to Monique's arm. "We need to keep her."

"Don't believe anything she tells you about me," Barb warned Monique before returning to her husband.

After she finished questioning Monique the elderly woman stood by the young black woman and explained who at the party was related to whom, and who wasn't speaking to whom -- and why.

Monique earned Rose's undying affection by asking about Will's outrageous great-grandfather (Rose's father) and other stories of family history, "Will said only one branch of the family ever lost money, some of the Du's apparently were in the South during the Civil War?"

"Not Du's, a slightly different branch. Two of Franklin Duquesne's grandsons moved South. They changed their family name to Duke about the time the Northern branch shortened their's to Du."

"Duke?" Rose missed the shocked note in Monique's voice.

"Yes. We still have some Duke cousins in Georgia. Not much contact with them now I'm afraid. They never recovered financially from the war."

Will was not the only person with cousins named Duke in the South. "Were they always in Georgia? Did they own slaves?"

"I don't really specialize in the Southern branch," Rose apologized. "I believe they moved to Georgia after the war. But I'm sure they must have owned a lot of slaves. George Duke was an undersecretary of the Treasury Department for the Confederacy. He was responsible…"

Monique wasn't listening any more, she felt physically ill.

Will couldn't find Monique when he returned. He quizzed Barb, who sent him over to their great-aunt Rose.

"Your young lady said she wasn't feeling well and went outside for some fresh air."

Will gave his elderly relative a kiss on the cheek, "Thanks," and headed for the door.

"Take me home," were her first words when he found her on the terrace.

"Can we stay a little while longer? We've only been here a couple hours."

"Please, Will, take me back. You can come back if you want. I just want to lie down."

"I'll stay with you, give me a minute to find the chauffer and see if he stayed here or went home."

He couldn't coax her into talking that evening, and it was a mostly silent trip back to Middleton. He complimented her and asked if she'd noticed how his mother and father were trying harder to be friendly, but she refused to be drawn into conversation.

She made one odd request before he left, "Could you please leave a blood sample at the hospital?"

"A blood sample?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It would make me feel better, please Will."

"Can you give me any idea what this is about."

She hesitated. "I'd rather not… Maybe I'm crazy. I've just got this weird fear and I want it put to rest."

"You believe I am some sort of mechanical construct and you want them to draw blood to demonstrate I'm human?"

"Something crazy like that. But, please?"

"Thanks, Will," she told him when the nurse had taken the sample. She gave him a completely unsatisfactory kiss on the cheek and sent him home. He excused her with the thought she was ill and didn't want to pass on any germs - although he'd have gladly taken his chances.

It took a little more effort to get Martin into the clinic. A man in love will do things, like give blood, without understanding why - but a younger brother wants a very good reason he can accept. It took some blackmail on Monique's part, but she got him to the clinic as well.

_"I'm being totally irrational,"_ she told herself. _"I don't know why this has me so bent out of shape."_ She almost wished she had never read a book on Sally Hemmings and Thomas Jefferson for an American History class.

Will called to ask how she felt, and she cut him short. She also told him she would not be playing poker on Saturday evenings and was in no mood for company. He didn't know what to do, but tried to respect her desires.

Kim waylaid Monique after class one day and demanded to know what was going on. Monique threw Kim off with a half-truth - the attitudes she picked up from some of Will's relatives. Monique tried to reason with herself, the past is over and can't be changed. But her fears continued to gnaw at her.

The letter from the clinic finally arrived. She found it as soon as she arrived at the big house and, holding it in her sweating hand, ran up to her room and shut the door.

_"Everything's fine,"_ she told herself as she ripped the envelope open, _"I'm worrying over nothing. There is no reason to be upset."_

She read the letter three times, hoping she had misunderstood the contents. After finally accepting the information she gave serious thought to throwing up.

Monique didn't go down for supper and Kim called Will to warn him Mon wasn't feeling well.

"What's wrong?" he demanded when he called. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Got the results of the blood tests back," she said listlessly.

"Blood tests… What was that all about?"

"I had a Y-chromosome test run on your blood and my brother Martin."

"I don't understand. Why?"

"I have some cousins named Duke in the South."

"That's a weird coincidence, so do I."

"It's not a weird coincidence. Mine were named for the family that owned them."

"And you think--"

"I know!" she snapped. "You and Martin share the same male ancestor."

Will tried hard to bring the news into focus. "So, we're some kind of cousins? I mean; that had to be far enough back it doesn't matter as far as our seeing each other."

"Don't you get it, Will?"

"Get what?"

"Your family owned my family. Not only that, one of your ancestors raped one of mine."

Monique hung up, and started uncontrollably crying.

---

**AN**: This reflects Best Enemies: Redux, Grudge Matches, Homecoming, The Blind Leading the Blind, and Domus dulcis domu, and provides background for Thanksgiving at the Big Table.


	12. Starting Over

Boilerplate Disclaimer: Disney owns the characters from Kim Possible. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

**Chapter 12 - Starting Again**

"Where's Monique?" her mother asked suspiciously as the waiter held her chair in one of the Astor's private dining rooms. She feared Will and Monique had invited the family here to announce their engagement, and her baby was too young to get married.

"She will not be joining us," Will informed her.

"Is she okay?" Colin chirped up.

"She'd better not be in a family way," Momma said, staring at Will, "I knew I shouldn't have let her move. Is that why she won't see her own flesh and blood?"

"I don't believe she has any fear of seeing you," Will assured her. "I assume that she told you the news…"

"What news?"

"When we got in from the East Coast she asked me for a blood sample for genetic testing. She informed me that a brother also gave a sample--"

Momma looked at her sons, "Boys?"

"Me," Martin muttered.

"Are you all right?" Will asked the sullen young man.

"He didn't get into the Air Force Academy," Momma explained. "I told him he should have a back-up plan."

"Drop it, please," Martin muttered.

"Did Monique tell you why she wanted the blood test?" Will asked.

"No. She just said she'd-- I mean, she asked and I did it. What's going on?"

Will took a deep breath. "I had a relative, early nineteenth century. Some of his descendants moved South. My ancestors stayed North. The branch of the family that moved South owned a lot of slaves, their name was Duke--"

"And Monique wanted to see if it was the same Dukes," Momma interrupted. "How could she tell with a blood test?"

Will took another deep breath, "She had another worry. Some owners, uh, took advantage of slave women…"

"Got that right."

"Monique said that Martin and I share a common male ancestor."

Will's announcement brought a stunned silence to the private room. Colin spoke first, "So we're related."

"Yes, we are."

The boy grinned from ear to ear, "Neat!"

Will looked at Martin, "Yeah, whatever," the other brother mumbled.

"How's Monique taking this," Momma asked.

"I don't know," Will sighed. "She hasn't spoken to me since the day she found out."

It seemed easier to turn the conversation to the menu for a time. After the orders had been placed, however, Momma asked, "Why exactly did you ask us to dinner? I'm hoping its not because you feel guilty over what some relative did two hundred years ago."

"No, Ma'am. I want to be honest with you. I hope to marry your daughter some day."

"She told me that. She also said you had orders not to think about it before she graduated. Look, Will, you seem like a nice young man. If my baby wants to marry you someday you have my blessing. But if you asked us here to sweet talk me into getting the two of you back together I don't appreciate it. She'll need to work through what ever's eating her by herself."

"Yes, Ma'am. I just feel it's important for me to be honest."

"Thank you, I appreciate that."

"So, we're really cousins?" Colin demanded again.

"It appears so. I would guess sixth or seventh."

"Can I tell you what I want for my birthday?"

"Certainly, I--"

"Colin, hush," Momma warned him.

Barb offered no help when he called her.

"I'm sorry," his sister told him. "I called her last time--"

"And it helped!"

"I think she knew she wanted to call you already. I just gave her a little push to get her moving faster. I'm not going to put pressure on her."

"But I need--"

"She needs time, Will."

"You're telling me to do nothing?"

"No. A card or flowers every--"

"Day?"

"No, not every day. Every now and then, once a week tops. You don't want her to think you're dangerously obsessing."

"What if I am?"

"Will, you don't obsess, you analyze. And that will give you trouble. Monique isn't analyzing, she's feeling. Analysis isn't what she needs, it will take empathy."

"I don't understand."

"I know," Barb said sadly

Several days later, in his Global Justice office Will felt guilty. He should probably call payroll or human resources and have them mark this morning off as a half-holiday since it appeared he would only get personal work done.

The aide answered the phone, "Senator Kennedy's office."

_"Yes, my name is William Du, I'm hoping that one of his senior staff members can call me with a problem I'm having."_

The aide prepared to enter the caller's information on a standard form, wondering why people thought the Senator had time for every little problem in the world. "How do you spell that last name?"

_"D-u. First name, William. Make a note to tell the Senator the younger William."_

Something in the tone made the aide quickly check a list of campaign donors, and discover a considerable Du list. "Please hold, Mr. Du, the Senator might be free to speak with you."

Thirty seconds later the Senator's voice came over the phone, "Will, my boy, how are you doing?"

"Very fine, Sir."

"My aide said you were having some sort of problem."

"I'm hoping you can ask some of your colleagues on the Armed Forces committee to rectify an admissions oversight to the Air Force Academy."

"Someone deserving?"

"Very much so. I fear he didn't get in because other applicants were able to call in favors to bump their admissions ahead of his."

The Senator sighed, "It would be nice if we just let the military academies decide for themselves."

"I agree wholeheartedly with that sentiment. But until such time as it occurs I would hate to see someone denied the opportunity to serve his country because of lack of connections."

"What makes him special?"

"He would be fifth generation in the armed forces. His family has been fighting for our nation since the Civil War in the army and navy--"

The Senator chuckled, "That should give the Air Force something to brag about. Are his grades adequate?"

"They comfortably exceed minimum standards. I believe the Academy would also find him an asset to their basketball team."

"I'll see what I can do," the Senator promised. "I'll forward your call to a staff member to get the details, I've got a meeting I need to get to."

"Thank you for your time, Sir."

In his office Will crossed, "Call Washington," off his list of things to do and stared at the next item on his agenda. He really hated to make the next phone call. Then he remembered Monique's brown eyes looking into his, the warmth of her body as he held her in his arms, her soft lips pressed against his, and he picked up the phone.

"LaTisha," Agent Jackson answered her phone.

"Yes, this is William Du. If you are not busy I'd like some of your time this morning."

LaTisha frowned. He knew damn well she had nothing but free time until the Review Board evaluated her report on her last mission. He was also on the Review Board, probably wanted to grill her ahead of time. "Any time, Sir."

"As soon as convenient, if you please."

"I'll leave now."

"Leave for where?" Agent Markov in the next cubicle asked.

"Need to see Du. Effin' prig probably doesn't believe my report."

"Good luck."

Four minutes later she stood in Will's office and assumed a 'rest' stance. "The three shots I fired were--"

"Three shots?"

"My last mission. Isn't that that you called me here to discuss?"

"No, relax, have a seat," he said gesturing to a chair. "This is a purely informal meeting. I need your opinion." She preferred to stand.

He waited a minute, and when he realized she would not be sitting he began his questions.

"I'm trying to understand something… What would you do to a man whose family used to own your ancestors?"

LaTisha stared at him for a second, then held her hand up in front of her face, turning it over as if she'd never seen it before, "Lawdy!" she exclaimed, "I'ze black!"

"I do not appreciate the levity, Agent Jackson."

_"Why am I not surprised?"_ "You really want to know?"

"I would assume my asking you here would demonstrate my interest in your answer."

"What would I do… Is that before or after I castrated him?"

"Seriously, please. You discover that relatives of man you are dating once owned your ancestors."

It took a second for the gears to turn and things to click into place, "Wait, do you mean to tell me that Will, 'White Bread' Du is dating a sister?"

"Not a sister, distant cousin actually. It appears one of my relatives, uh, took advantage of--"

"You're serious?" Her tone of voice conveyed her inability to believe his words.

"I'm perfectly serious."

"You dated a girl whose family your family used to own?"

"Not direct family. They were more like cousins."

"At least you weren't the first one in the family to like 'em dark and sexy."

"That's not funny. I'm desperate. I'm trying to understand what's going on in her mind."

LaTisha paused. She almost wished she had something she could tell him, but shook her head, "I'm sorry. But I really,_ really_ can't think of anything to say. I can't imagine such a thing happening, and have no idea how I'd react if it did."

"So, no easy answers for me?" he asked glumly.

"Afraid not."

Will sighed. "Well, thanks for coming and talking with me."

"No problem, Sir," LaTisha said, going back into a more formal stance. "Can you tell me anything about my meeting with the Review Board this Thursday?"

"Let me think for a minute," Will told her. After a brief pause he continued. "I've spoken with the other members of the Board. It appears most of them are inclined to accept your version of the incident. I note several discrepancies in your report and hope your verbal account will be able to bring clarity to the order of events."

LaTisha hurled several obscenities at Will in her mind. "Thank you for your candor, Sir. See you at the meeting on Thursday."

At Casa Possible everyone knew something was eating Monique. No one could remember ever seeing her in such a depression, but she steadfastly refused to talk about it.

"He dumped her," Shego suggested to Kim when they discussed it one evening.

"No one would ever dump Monique. She's too nice."

"Maybe he's an idiot. She's better off without him if he's an idiot."

"You're really not helping. I'm trying to figure out a way of getting them back together."

"Has it occurred to you that one or both of them might not want to get back together?"

"Don't be silly. She wouldn't be depressed if she didn't want to get back together with him."

Shego rolled her eyes, "You haven't taken Intro to Logic or Critical Thinking, have you?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"Never mind. So, Ms Matchmaker, how are you getting them back together?"

"We haven't had poker night in a few weeks. We'll have one this Saturday, I'm inviting Will."

"You did what!" Monique demanded when she heard Kim had invited Will.

"Asked him to play poker with us Saturday."

"How could you?"

"I picked up the phone," Kim said, picking up an imaginary phone and holding it to her ear. "I called his number," she mimed punching in a phone number, "and asked if he wanted to play."

"I mean, why would you do that?"

"'Cause he's a friend."

"You did it without asking me."

"I don't recall you saying anything about not wanting to see Will."

"But… But…"

"You can go home for the night if you're afraid of him."

"I'm not afraid of Will Du!" _"What am I going to say to him?"_

Will arrived in time for supper. Kim noticed neither looked comfortable as they sat down to eat. She hoped they'd get over it and that they'd sit together like they always did for poker night. "We've really missed you," Kim told him. "Shego does so well that she's getting an oversized ego."

"That's not true," Shego interrupted. "It's just a realistic assessment of how good I am."

"Hot stuff, coming through," Ron called as he brought salmon fillets and a platter of asparagus to the table. He returned to the table with a casserole dish filled with scalloped potatoes. "These are right out of the oven and too hot to pass. Give me your plates and I'll serve you."

The fish and vegetables went around the table as Ron served potatoes. "The potatoes taste a little different tonight," Bonnie commented.

"Well, I ran out of milk so I used a couple of those little bottles of formula Kim has in the fridge."

Bonnie turned a little green. Kim confirmed her fears, "Oh, God. Those aren't bottles of formula -- they're breast milk."

Bonnie covered her mouth, and ran for the bathroom. Ron lay the spoon down in the potatoes -- no one would be asking for more. Will lowered his fork and pushed his plate away. Monique pushed hers away also. "Can I take you out for dinner?" he asked. "We need to talk."

Everyone looked over at Shego, who had continued eating. "What's wrong?" she demanded. "It's kosher or you couldn't feed it to babies."

Kim sighed, that hadn't worked out exactly as planned. Still, Monique and Will would get to talk, even if she wasn't able to listen in to the conversation.

"Private room at the Astor?" Will suggested to Monique as they drove onto the street. "It's quiet. Or do you have a better suggestion?"

"That's fine." She didn't know what to say. She felt happy to be with him, and sad, and angry at herself, and angry at Kim, and afraid, and she wasn't certain how many other emotions she experienced at once.

But they couldn't get in at the Astor, or any of the six decent restaurants they tried before ending up at the House of Crabcakes. The quality of the food, screaming children in the next booth, and servers dressed in pirate costumes meant the meal served as an exercise in frustration rather than communication. They stared across the booth at each other and wished they could talk.

"The coffee shop?" Monique suggested as they left.

Tony remembered Will from their last visit to C2K, and was more than happy to find a couch for them in the back.

"What's going on, really?" Will demanded as Tony left with their orders.

"I'm scared," she confessed, taking his hand.

"Scared… About what?" He wasn't sure if he really wanted to know the answer.

"Rationally I know it doesn't matter. I know it wasn't you. It wasn't even your direct family… But it bothers me. It bothers me more than it should, and I've got no idea what to do about it."

He wanted clarification, "What does it mean for us?"

"I don't know what it means! I'm so mixed up I don't know what to do. This frightens me. I tell myself it doesn't matter, but it doesn't change what I'm feeling. It makes me think maybe we shouldn't see each other." Will's heart missed a beat. "And while I've got this huge fear eating me up inside it doesn't change the way I feel about you--"

"How do you feel about me?"

There was a long pause before she could answer, made even longer as Tony arrived with their orders. After Tony left Will looked at Monique and raised an eyebrow. She sighed, "The problem is… I love you."

Will did not consider that a problem. He put his cup down on the table and reached out to hold her.

"No," 'Nique said and pushed him away.

"But--"

"I told you I don't know how I feel. I love you. And I feel like this won't work. And I want it to work. And I never want to see you--"

"You don't want to see me?" he croaked.

"I don't want to hurt you. I love you. What if I can't get over this?" She started crying. "I feel like I'm going crazy."

For Will only the three words, "I love you," mattered. He took her in his arms again and this time she didn't resist, letting him hold her as she cried. "If you love me, why do you never want to see me again?"

She enjoyed the feel of his arms around her before answering, "Because it's not fair to you. What if I can't get over this? What if it keeps gnawing away at me every time I see you?"

"We will work through it," he promised, and bent to kiss her.

Monique turned her face away. "Please, no. I can't. Not now."

"Can I hold you a little longer?"

She hesitated before answering, "Yes, please." It was wrong to lead him on when she felt so conflicted, but she needed his strength at that moment.

"I'll wait," he promised, "as long as it takes, I'll wait."


	13. A Time to Give Thanks

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

Part of this chapter reflects the story Thanksgiving at the Big Table.

**Chapter 13 - A Time to Give Thanks**

It had been weeks, and sometimes Will felt like he was making no progress at all. He took Monique out to eat, they played poker together at the big house, they attended a concert he picked and a movie she chose. Since the two seldom made public displays of affection Kim and the others in Casa Possible assumed everything was back to normal. It wasn't. She would sometimes take his arm as they walked, but that was the extent of the physical contact. He wanted desperately to hold her in his arms and cover her with kisses. Every time they saw each other, or talked, he wanted to ask how she felt, and if she was working through her hatred of their shared history. But he could never manage to frame the question. He didn't want to talk about it. He feared bringing it up would make it worse, or that she wasn't able to move past that fact.

Monique, however, needed to talk. She felt confused and angry and needed someone to confide in. She directed much of her anger at herself. It wasn't Will's fault; he loved her and never showed her anything but care. He was a little reserved and quiet, but that wasn't the problem.

She did not want to call it her fault - she wasn't sure where to assign blame. But whenever they were together the tie between their families came unbidden into her mind. She wanted to forget it. She wished she had never learned of the connection. It was past, over, done with, and still gnawing at her soul.

She knew she was doing better. Right after she had learned of the connection she couldn't even bear to see him or hear his voice. Now she enjoyed being with him again, the chance to do things together, and knowing there was a person who loved her unconditionally. Will loved her, and Monique feared she was hurting him, but she wouldn't lie to him. Her mother and Cat both told her she'd be fine, eventually. She didn't want to be fine eventually. She wanted to be fine yesterday.

Momma wasn't quite sure what to make of Will and Monique. Her daughter confided some of both her fears and hopes to her, and Momma figured Mon would work through it in time. She didn't want to push her daughter, but she wanted to help.

"You asked him to dinner?" Monique demanded.

"Why not?"

"But… But…"

"But he's family, child. And Colin loves him." Momma knew it was the family connection which created the problem. She couldn't change that and Monique had to accept the fact and live with it. In the meantime it provided a convenient excuse. "You don't have to eat with us, you could stay at your place."

"I'll be here. I won't have you talking about me behind my back or showing him those old photo albums."

Momma smiled. Monique wasn't worried about Martin talking behind her back, and she didn't really worry about Momma showing those pictures of her in the bath at fifteen months old. Mon wanted to be with Will.

Will complimented his hostess before dinner, "The pork chops smell wonderful, Mrs. Grant."

"Nothing fancy," she assured him. "You don't have to use guest manners any more, you're family."

Will wished she hadn't said that. He imagined the truth might go away if it was ignored hard enough. Momma wanted to beat it to death, until it became one of those facts like, 'water is wet', which are too ingrained to require thinking or concern.

"Do I hafta' eat asparagus?" Colin whined as the vegetables were passed.

"At least five spears," Monique told him.

"I didn't like asparagus when I was little," Will whispered, helping serve the young boy. "You learn to like it as you get older."

"Then why do I gotta eat it now?" Colin replied in a conspiratorial tone.

Monique joined the whispered conversation, "Because if you don't eat it now you won't grow up to be a secret agent."

A few minutes later Momma asked Martin, "Can you watch Colin all day next Saturday? I have a meeting I can't get out of."

"No way, I have plans with friends. I don't have much time before I leave for the Air Force Academy."

Momma should have provided him with a better excuse, Monique smelled a set up as Momma turned to Will, "I know this is a huge burden, but is there any chance you could come out? Colin really loved it when you took him to the zoo."

Will blushed, "Well, I suppose I could."

Momma would never have accepted a lame excuse like Martin wanting to spend time with friends instead of babysitting. Will's discomfort showed this wasn't his idea and Monique's heart went out to him for being a good sport.

"Why didn't you ask me?" she demanded. "He's my brother."

"Well, I just figured you're so busy - you work weekends - that you wouldn't have time."

"Will works too. And I'm never too busy for family," Monique answered, realizing she had fallen into her mother's trap. "Will, can I go with you and Colin to the zoo?"

The sky threatened rain as Will drove Colin and Monique to the zoo on Saturday. It kept attendance down and made it easier to track Colin as he again insisted on seeing everything - at once. A couple hours after their arrival, however, the clouds began to break up and the sun shone through.

Monique's mood seemed to improve with the change of weather. She smiled more than Will had seen in weeks. She joined Colin in asking obscure questions from the zoo-facts signs and laughed at Will when he gave an incorrect answer and cheered for him when he answered correctly. Being out with Will and Colin, as family, reminded her of how much the Global Justice agent meant to her.

"The reptile house! The reptile house now!" Colin demanded, pointing at it.

"Go ahead," Mon laughed, "Will and I are right behind you."

As they watched him scamper towards the snake and lizard exhibit Monique slipped her hand in Will's and their fingers intertwined.

"I don't know where he gets the energy," Will said, "this is harder than chasing criminals."

Without really thinking Monique asked, "How many kids do you think there should be in a family?"

"As many as you want," he assured her.

"Oh, two for sure. Then we can--" Suddenly realizing what she was saying she stopped. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't--"

"Are you really sorry," he demanded.

She hesitated, then answered, "No, I'm not sorry. For a minute there all I could think of was how good it felt to be with you. I'm…" She laughed, "I'm getting better!"

Will laughed, and hugged her. "Want to talk more about our kids?"

"Another time. Right now we've got to move or we'll lose Colin."

They held hands as they ran to the reptile house.

After the zoo they found a fast food place with a play area for Colin. He bolted his meal and ran to play, leaving Will and Monique to talk.

"So, how much better are you feeling?" he asked.

"A lot," she sighed. "It was wonderful being with you today."

"So, how much better are you feeling?" he asked again, raising one eyebrow as suggestively as he could. "Am I going to get a good-night kiss?"

Mon hesitated, then put her hand on top of his and squeezed gently. "I'm still a little nervous… I… Can I promise next time we go out? I need a little time to think about today - and you."

"Only pleasant thoughts?"

"Only pleasant thoughts," she promised.

Will sighed, "Then I will live in anticipation of the next time we go out."

On the drive home Will asked Mon, "So when am I picking you up tomorrow?"

"What?"

"I'm spending the night at my cousin's. We'll go out after your shift tomorrow. When do you work?"

"I open, go 'til four. But I don't remember you asking me out."

"We could take a rocket to the moon," he suggested.

"Or go bowling in Lowerton."

"Dive for pearls in Bali?"

"Or go bowling in Lowerton."

"Climb the Matterhorn in Switzerland?"

"Or go bowling in Lowerton."

"How is this for a possible compromise," Will suggested, "we could go bowling in Lowerton."

"Ah do declare, Mr. Du," Monique said in an obviously fake Southern drawl, "you come up with the most original ideas, Ah shall be delighted to accompany you."

"YEA! Bowling!" Colin shouted from the back seat.

"Um, Colin," his sister told him. "I think Will's invitation was just for me."

"Oh." Colin packed a world of sadness into the word.

At a stop sign Will whispered, "Should we?" and nodded his head in the direction of the back seat.

"No, we shouldn't," Monique whispered back. She sighed, "Colin. Will is a big softy and doesn't know how to say no to you. If you go bowling with us it is _only_ bowling, you understand that? Then you go home and he and I eat at a nice restaurant - without you. Then he and I find a place to talk so I can thank him for being such a wonderful person. You understand?"

"YEA! Bowling," came again from the back seat, with just a little less enthusiasm.

* * *

"You've done this before, I can tell," Will said glumly.

Monique grinned. "It has been way too long. And I'm having a great afternoon. I can't believe I nearly broke two hundred in the second game."

"You're doing better this game."

"Don't jinx me," she warned. "It's only third frame."

Monique sat at the scorer's table and didn't make things any easier when he got up to bowl on his next turn. "Cat was right, you have a cute butt."

He appeared at a total loss.

"You're supposed to return the compliment," she told him

"I, uh, that is…"

"Don't you like my rear? Is it too big?"

"Perfect," Will managed to stammer, "your… is perfect."

Monique smiled; she enjoyed teasing Will. She put a little extra wiggle in her hips on her next turn. When she looked back at the scorer's table Will had a vacant look in his eyes. She looked down at the score sheet.

"I had a nine."

"What?" he responded, snapping back into focus.

"Give me a nine."

"You're a ten. Easily."

"My score. I knocked down nine pins. Now watch me pick up the spare."

Colin didn't bowl well, but having done it before he managed to beat Will in the first two games.

"Will, I don't mean to put any pressure on you, but if you can get a strike, or even a spare here in the tenth frame you can probably beat Colin."

While Will regarded bowling merely as an excuse to be with Monique her words kick-started his competitive nature. Will wanted to beat Colin, it stung a little to have a child beating you. He concentrated hard, rolled the ball straight down the lane, and hit the head pin straight on, resulting in a four-seven-ten split. Will stared glumly at the three standing pins as Colin laughed at him.

"Shush," Monique told her little brother. "Do the best you can Will."

Will always did the best he could. But when he was with Monique too often it didn't seem like it was good enough. He went for the four and seven. The ball kissed the four, knocking it across the alley and where it collided with the ten-pin while the ball hit the seven with a satisfying thunk. Will pumped both arms in the air, "Ha! Gonna beat you," he told Colin.

He didn't have time to notice Colin's reaction. Monique threw her arms around Will to congratulate him for the spare. Without thinking he bent to give her a fast kiss. As his lips brushed hers Mon stopped thinking, pulling him tight, kissing him back with a desperate passion.

The both lost all track of time. The teenagers in the next lane were giggling like mad when the loudspeaker blared, _"Would the couple in lane nine kindly remember this is a family establishment."_

"Four," Monique told him

"Wha!"

"You need to knock over four pins to beat Colin."

Will threw a gutter ball. He didn't care. He hadn't been this happy since the first night he and Monique kissed. They dropped Colin off at the apartment and went out to eat.

* * *

Monique was even busier with work and classes in her junior year at Middleton U. Will resented her having less time for him and suggested she cut back on hours at the store. If the discussions did not reach levels that could be terms 'fights' they certainly turned into sparring matches.

"I need the money to help pay for college," she reminded him

"If you ma--"

"Don't say it," she warned. "And remember, I'm going to manage a Club Banana after I graduate."  
"But--"

She glared at him and Will fell silent. He didn't need to win the argument today. He would prevail in time and she would give up her plans to work and become the perfect stay at home wife. The sooner he could convince her the more time she would have for him, but it didn't have to be today.

Will arrived for poker at Casa Possible one Saturday in November to learn, "We're doing Thanksgiving here!"

"Uh…"

"Remember last year? We said we'd start our own Thanksgiving tradition?"

"Oh, right… I'm lost. Here is here, but who are we?"

"We were talking this morning, everyone. I invited Bonnie to eat with us and it sort of snowballed from there. 'We' is all of us, with Kim's folks, and Ron's, and Felix's mom. Shego is inviting Drakken, Justine is going to invite her parents and Kim will invite a woman she wants to set up with our old assistant high school principal."

"Oh." Will had hoped for an intimate time with just Monique, but he would make the most of the situation. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Just bring yourself, and get here as early as you can on Thanksgiving," Monique told him. "Chef Ron is in charge and the rest of us are support staff.

"Be here early on Thursday," Monique reminded him after she kissed him good-night.

"For you, anything," he promised.

* * *

The Monday before Thanksgiving a folder hit his desk. Human smuggling. The freighter was registered in Panama, the human cargo probably Chinese peasants, the ship had been loaded in Singapore, with San Francisco as its port of call, and was currently traveling in international waters. Will grinned, the paperwork on this should be a lot of fun. It would be number of days until the ship arrived at the US, but Will decided to get it out of the way early so he wouldn't have to worry about it over Thanksgiving. He picked his team. Before they flew out Tuesday he called Monique to tell her he had a mission, but still planned to arrive early on Thursday. It was a picture perfect interdiction until one of the refugees panicked. Why he panicked wasn't clear, he might have feared arrest or torture. Perhaps, having given everything he had to be smuggled in, he saw this as the loss of his future. Will paid more attention to the crew of the ship, who would all be arrested, as the potential threat and took a knife in the leg. The men who treated him thought he was crazy because he talked more about Thanksgiving than his wound.

Will woke up Wednesday in the hospital. It was not a surprise; he remembered everything up until yesterday's anesthesia. "How am I?" he asked a nurse.

"You'll be fine. Three or four days here and then take it easy for a month. It was deep but didn't hit any arteries or sever anything."

He was up later in the day. The leg hurt. "Got to expect that," the physical therapist told him. "I'll make sure you're up on it every day while you're here."

"I intend to leave the hospital tonight," Will informed him.

"We won't release you. Not until you're ready. You lost a fair amount of blood, and the wound was deep."

"You've already indicated that I'm ambulatory--"

"That's with a therapist present!"

"While I am deeply appreciative of your concern I will be leaving here this evening."

"No you won't."

Will did not get out of the hospital that evening. And only someone like Will could appreciate how many waivers of liability he had to sign before he was able to discharge himself Thursday morning. Clearly the hospital wanted him to remain for observation and it wasn't clear if his threats to bring a lawsuit were the primary factor in letting him go or if he had made such a nuisance of himself they wanted him to go and never bother them again.

While he was anxious to get to Middleton he wasn't stupid enough to fly himself. The charter pilot he found would have a very merry Christmas with his family for the money he charged to bring Will to Middleton on Thanksgiving Day.

On the way he decided he did not want Monique to know he had been wounded. When he arrived a touch football game was in progress. He tried to walk normally on his way to the house.

"The men need you," Monique called.

"Don't want to interrupt the game in progress," he shouted back.

Kim and Shego exchanged glances, they could tell he was injured even if Monique missed it.

Will appeared more quiet than usual during the meal, but he never performed well in front of strangers and was not close to most of the people there and Monique let it pass for the moment.

After all the rest of the company left Will remained in the living room. Monique excused herself from cleaning to go talk with him. Shego whispered to Kim, "Keep helping Ron, I'm want to hear what 'Nique says to Will."

"Okay, why didn't you let me know where you were?" Monique demanded. "And why have you been a wet blanket since you arrived?"

"I was on a mission," Will reminded her

"That explains where you were. What about the other?"

He remained silent. Monique glared at him.

"He probably doesn't want you to know about getting wounded in the left leg," Shego casually remarked.

"Will!"

"Shego!"

"No, you don't yell at her," Monique declared. "You tell me what happened."

He told her briefly what happened.

"Why didn't you stay in the hospital?"

"I had to be with you."

"Hmm, nice answer. But why didn't you tell me what happened when you got here?"

He attempted to avoid the question, they talked of other things briefly, but she wouldn't let it pass forever. Shego left as Monique pinned him down, demanding to know why he hadn't told her earlier.

"I was afraid to tell you," he finally admitted.

"Afraid?" Monique was puzzled.

Will hesitated. "My job can be dangerous. I don't want you to turn me down because you fear I could get killed."

She stared at him, "I never realized you could be so dumb."

"Excuse me?"

"Will, you could slip in the bathtub and die tomorrow. My dad died in a freak accident. His older brother died in 'Nam. My grandfather lost a brother in World War II. Grants have been in the service since the Civil War. Their families have always had to be ready for bad news."

"So, everything is okay?"

"No, everything is not okay. You weren't honest with me. We'll talk about your punishment later. Right now, have you called your folks?"

Kim invited Will to spend the night on the couch. Since he wouldn't be going back to Global Justice for a couple weeks he was welcome to stay as long as he wanted. Shego even suggested they fix up the small servants' rooms on the top floor and let Will use one.

Monique left early for Friday morning -- biggest sale day of the year for Club Banana. Bonnie went with her to earn a little extra cash for the holiday season.

Since Will hadn't brought clothes he went down to the mall in the afternoon to do some shopping.

Will hoped, in vain, to have a few minutes alone with Monique. Club Banana was pure chaos. Martin, home from the Air Force Academy for the long weekend, had been pressed into service as well.

Cat Tyler saw Will when he walked in, "You can't have her," she shouted to make herself heard above the chaos. "Not even for a minute."

"I'm here to buy clothes," he called back.

"Then you can have anyone else, or--"

Martin took Will by the arm, "I've got him," he called to Cat.

"You around for awhile?" Martin asked as he rang up Will's purchases.

"Through the weekend at least, why?"

"Want to talk, maybe Saturday night. Momma will probably want you and 'Nique over for leftovers. Oh, Mon has lunch break at one-thirty today. Be back then."

* * *

After Monique's relatives had done their impression of a locust horde there was little in the way of Thanksgiving leftovers at the Grant household on Saturday night. But given how much had been left over at the big house it was a relief.

"Hey, 'Nique," Martin asked his sister at the end of the meal, "can I take your boyfriend to the Center? I want to talk with him for a minute."

"Can I come with you?"

"You can come over later. Got a couple things I wanta ask about."

"Stay here and talk with me," Momma invited Monique.

"You okay," Marty asked on the way to the Center, "you're walkin' funny."

Will gave him the short version. "Is that what you wished to speak with me about?"

"No, it's… Hey, Air Force Academy is great. A bunch of the cadets got in through some pull… Two of 'em already gone… Anyway, I heard a rumor one guy had some serious pressure on his behalf. Found out a month later they was talkin' about me. And I got to thinking, who do I know who would go out on a limb like that for me."

Will said nothing.

Marty pressed him, "Monique tells me you know a lot of people."

"I believe we all know a lot of people."

"You ask any of the folk you know to put in a word for me?"

Will said nothing. Marty stopped walking, and Will stopped also. "Thanks, bro," Marty said, holding up a fist.

"You're welcome," Will answered, tapping Marty's fist with his own. "You're not going to make me try and play tonight on a bum leg, are you?"

"Won't need you. Guys who went off to college will be playing the guys who didn't make it."

'Tiny' groaned when Will entered with Marty, "You're not sticking that flea on me again."

"Nah, he got hurt makin' a bust last week - he's just watchin'."

"Makin' a bust? He's heat?"

"My jurisdiction only covers international activities."

"Say what?"

"If you ain't done nothin' in Canada or Mexico he doesn't care," someone told 'Tiny'.

The big man laughed, "Hey, I'm cool with that. I'd say make him ref, but if what he knew about the game was toilet paper he couldn't clean a gnat's ass."

"Hey, a little respect for a brother," Martin warned him.

"What'a mean?"

Martin put an arm over Will's shoulder, "He's family."

"You shittin' me? He married Monique?"

"Nah, he really is family. A long-lost cousin," Marty explained. "His side got all the money, we got the good looks and the hoop skills - let's play."

"Okay, losers buyin' pizza for the winners."

Will moved to the bleachers at one side of the court. "Yo, Urkel," Marty called, "would you please sit with my cousin and explain some of the fine points of the game?"

A thin young man in a long coat nodded yes and moved to join Will. His coat moved oddly and clanked a little as he walked. Will stared, "Carry my tools with me," the man explained. Will still looked puzzled, "I'm, ah, a free-lance mechanic."

Will decided not the press the matter. "Urkel? What sort of a name is that?"

"Family Matters."

"Excuse me?"

"You never watched the show Family Matters?"

"No, when is it on?"

"Man, it's been off for years. A guy named Jaleel White played a character named Steve Urkel. My name's Steve White, been Urkel ever since. Now, watch the game."

Three of the players on the college side got there on basketball scholarships, but the side with those who stayed in Middleton had men who played almost every day at the center.

"Oh, this game is sweet," Urkel muttered.

At the end of the third quarter Tiny called over, "Urkel, order three large. We'll know who's paying by the time they get here."

"Three doesn't seem like much for this group," Will said quietly.

"Just for the winning team."

"Quadruple the order."

"Quadruple?"

"Yes, it means to multiple--"

"Shit, man. I know what it means. You payin' for it?"

"Certainly."

"Twelve large?"

"Yes."

"You got cash, 'cause Tony's doesn't take cards."

"I believe I have sufficient cash for the transaction."

"Well look, man, I'm not going on Tony's shit list for a prank order."

Urkel saw the contents of Will's wallet, and called in twelve large.

A sullen Tiny was shaking down his teammates for their share when Tony's delivery boy arrived. Tiny went ballistic at the stack of boxes. "Urkel! What the hell you doin'?"

"I've got it," Will said, paying for the pizza and giving a larger tip than Tony's usually got for a run to the Center.

"You got it?" Tiny asked in disbelief.

"Certainly."

"You are one righteous flea," Tiny laughed, and took a box with a large pepperoni for himself.

* * *

Over Spring Break Monique went with Will to Quebec to see the city and to meet distant relatives. Because she lacked any knowledge of French she was far more impressed when Will spoke with Charles Duquesne in the language than she should have been. The conversation grew quite animated, aided by Will's difficulty with the language, until Charles laughed, rolled his eyes, and addressed Will in English, "And you call yourself a descendant of Randy Andy Du!"

As Will and Monique carried in their bags Monique asked, "What was that all about?"

"It appears that Cousin Charles assumed we were… He only had one room prepared for us."

"Did you get that straightened out?"

"Yes."

In fact, Charles took it upon himself to place them in the two rooms the furthest apart from each other in the old house. "I do not wish for you to be tempted," he explained as he took them out for dinner.

The fifty plus divorced cousin took it upon himself to flirt outrageously with Monique while they stayed with him. Under other circumstances Monique might have enjoyed the game, but Will seemed so uncomfortable with it that Monique let the innuendos pass with a smile.

* * *

Will regarded Monique's eventual acceptance of his proposals as a given. They talked about philosophy of child-rearing and finding the proper church, and on good days they might even discuss what kind of wedding they wanted. Monique always prefaced such conversations with, "We're just talking hypothetically here, but if we get married someday…"

As Monique's junior year in college drew to a close Will hoped she might be willing to try married life for her senior year. On that point she remained firm. She would graduate with her bachelor's degree before she got married. But at least she no longer insisted on having her MBA before marriage. Will took that as progress. Unfortunately she still insisted on graduate work in a business program and his hints about it being unnecessary didn't seem to produce any effect.

Still he felt confident he had her. He just needed to avoid doing anything too stupid until after the wedding. Once she was his wife he felt certain she would conform to his wishes.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I've vowed to finish this before posting another long story (one or two chapter stories don't count against my vow). This lacks a dramatic element in terms of a chapter ending. However, most of the dramatic elements have been in the form of an impediment to the relationship. I'll cut Will a little slack and end this chapter with him believing everything is fine.


	14. One Last Hurdle

Disney owns the Kim Possible characters.

**One Last Hurdle**

Monique spent over a week at the home of Will's parents before her senior year.

Will and Barb insisted on giving her sailing lessons. She capsized the boat in the first twenty minutes. While she had horrible visions of struggling to survive in shark-infested water the brother and sister righted the boat, and insisted she try again. It was almost two hours before she capsized again, and then only because her confidence had grown faster than her ability.

At a 'larger family' event the news spread that Monique was family. A few refused to believe it and used it as an excuse not to talk with her - which they hadn't planned to do anyway. A few used it an opportunity to introduce themselves. Since Will remained somewhat uncomfortable on the dance floor Monique managed to meet a little more of her distant kin - some of whom danced well.

Aunt Rose became dizzy with excitement at the news and had to sit down.

"Will must bring you by to see me," the elderly woman told Monique. It was not a request; it was a command performance by a woman accustomed to getting her way.

"I'm not sure if we have time this trip--"

"Find time. I'm an old lady, I won't be around much longer and I want to hear the story."

* * *

Mrs. Du and Barb took Monique out for a lunch two days before she returned to Middleton.

"My last time seeing you this trip, I'm afraid," Barb told her

"I thought we were sailing tomorrow."

"Got a call this morning. Emergency meeting for a school where I'm on the Board of Governors. I don't think it's an emergency - something about student retention. But I must go. And I told you about the hospital meeting Friday."

"What's that about, Dear," her mother asked.

"Oh, I'm on a committee trying to get psychological and psychiatric services better integrated into the total care system."

"You might ask Will to take you by to see aunt Rose tomorrow. I know she would be thrilled to talk with you," Mrs. Du suggested to Monique.

They were almost done with the meal when Barb turned to her mother, "Do you want to ambush her, or should I?"

"Go ahead," Linda Du answered.

Monique felt like a deer caught in the headlights as the two women turned to her and smiled.

"So, Monique," Barb began, "when will you be marrying Will?"

"I haven't accepted his proposal yet."

"We know, Dear, but that wasn't the question," Mrs. Du pointed out.

"We promise not to tell him," Barb added. "But we need to know."

"You need to know before Will?"

"Of course," Barb laughed. "Men don't do anything with weddings. But they take planning. You graduate in the spring. Are you considering getting married after graduation?"

"Maybe, I'm not--"

"Still going to graduate school?"

"Yes, I--"

"Don't let Will talk you out of it," Mrs. Du told her.

"But I'll bet he's not happy about it, is he?" Barb asked.

"No, I--"

"Well, you need to decide soon about a wedding date," Linda Du told her. "That is, if you're thinking about next summer."

"You can't very well accept him in May and expect to be a June bride," Barb warned.

"Your mother will never speak to you again," Will's mother added.

"A minimum of six months," Barb suggested. "Or, you could accept his proposal now and have almost a year."

The absurdity of it all hit Monique and she laughed, "You two are worse than Will! And do I ever get to finish a sentence?"

"Certainly, Dear, just start I sentence with, 'I plan to marry Will on--' and you have our undivided attention."

Barb's voice took a serious tone. "We don't mean to pressure you, but you do need to think about the amount of planning involved."

"We could elope in Vegas."

Linda Du shook her head, "Talk with your mother."

* * *

Even her housemates began to wonder when she would put Will out of his misery and accept his proposal, but as she started classes in the fall Mon hesitated. She loved Will and he continued to treat her like a princess. But as he grew more comfortable in the relationship he became more demanding. She might be his princess, but he considered himself king. Wanting her to abandon her plans for an MBA was the most obvious example. Other problems were more subtle. He always asked if there was anything she wanted to do, and usually obliged happily. On the rare occasions when they had conflicting desires he seemed poor about finding a compromise and often petulant if he didn't get things exactly his way. It was the sort of behavior you hoped two people would outgrow as a couple, Kim and Shego continued to fight, but their arguments were growing less noisy and further apart. On the other hand, it seemed like friction with Will was growing.

Monique wondered if the problem was Will or her own nervousness. She loved Will. She wanted to marry him. Her mother had agreed with Will's mother - a wedding took time to plan and Monique needed to make it official and set a date if she planned to get married after be received her bachelor's degree. Her own mother put less pressure on her. If her baby wanted to earn her MBA first that was fine also. But Monique was starting to require her own cold showers after some of her dates with Will and didn't know how much longer their mutual resolve to wait until after marriage could last.

There was another huge gathering and meal for Thanksgiving at Casa Possible. In the touch football game, without Anne Possible quarterbacking the men's team, the men went down to defeat. Thanksgiving promised to become a tradition. Monique caught herself asking Will, "Should we keep coming back here when we're married?"

"Accepting my proposal?" he smiled

"If, I meant if," she said. She returned his grin. She needed to put her worries aside and tell him yes, but not today.

Between Thanksgiving and Christmas Monique saw little of Will. She worked whenever she wasn't in class, and put in sixty hour weeks at Club Banana at semester's end. Will resented the lost time.

The house was largely empty in the week before Christmas. Monique worked. Justine stayed with the Rentons. While the holiday meant little to her it was important for Felix and his mother and Justine tried to gain some understanding of the day. Bonnie put in hours at Club Banana also, although nothing compared to Monique's, and even spent some time at home with her family. Kim and Shego had packed up the twins and left to spend the holiday with Shego's family.

There was a small party at the big house on the evening of the twenty-sixth. Will was there, his first time to see Mon in days. Kim and Shego arrived in Middleton in the morning, and spent the day with the Kim's parents. The housemates exchanged small presents with each other, and everyone had something for the twins, who were vastly excited about everything but without any understanding. To Bonnie's chagrin the two had more fun playing with the wrapping paper from the outfits 'Nique bought for them than the toys Bonnie had purchased.

Ron moved over and put his arm around Bonnie to comfort her, drawing covert stares from Mon and Shego. Ron showed definite signs of interest in Bonnie and they tried hard to read her feelings towards him.

Justine pulled a large box out from the tree and read, "Monique."

Monique looked at Will, "From you?"

He just looked puzzled, "No."

"Deliveryman brought it today," Ron explained.

"Well, open it," Kim suggested.

"Oh, my," Monique said when she saw the fur coat inside.

Will felt a pang of jealousy as Monique found a card and opened it. "Who is it from?" he demanded.

"Who did you have to sleep with to get it?" Bonnie asked.

"I'm not sleeping with anyone," Mon retorted to Bonnie. She read the card and laughed, "It's from your parents," she told Will.

"Wait," Bonnie protested, "you aren't even sleeping with Will and they gave you a fur?"

"Yes."

Bonnie shook her head in amazement, "Will, call your folks. Tell them I'm not sleeping with you either."

"Hey, what about me?" Ron asked.

"Okay, I won't sleep with you either if I can get a fur coat out of it. Who does a girl have to not sleep with to get a fur around here?"

Will reached into a pocket and pulled out a long jewelry box for Monique, she opened it to find a double strand of pearls, "You looked so good in your mother's--" he began.

She wasn't listening. She made an appropriate "Ohhh!" sound as she took them from the box, as did Bonnie and Kim, and interrupted him to say, "Put them on me!" She handed him the pearls and turned around, allowing him to fasten them at the back of her neck.

"They look great," Kim told her.

Monique believed her, but ran to find a mirror and see for herself.

They talked until late. Bonnie slipped away first, she still rose early in the morning. Felix left and Justine retired. Conversation might have gone on longer but Kim told Ron it was time to go upstairs, she wanted to leave Monique and Will alone. That suited Monique, but staying downstairs was not in her plans. After Kim, Shego, and Ron left she took Will by the hand and they went to her bedroom. "There is more privacy here," she told him.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, now-familiar box. "It's been three months since I asked last. Will you marry me?"

She took the ring box, opened it, and slipped the ring onto her left hand. She looked up at him and smiled. He took her into his arms and she wasn't sure the kiss would ever end.

She finally broke for air and pushed him slightly away. "I haven't given you your gift yet."

"You just did!"

"No, I didn't." She laughed. "A couple weeks ago I said it was hard to find a gift for the man who can buy anything for himself. Ron said I should make you something – but I'm not much good with power tools. Shego said I should buy a little white nightie with red satin ties and see-thru panels. Ron said you'd look silly in that. Justine threw napkin at him…"

Will looked puzzled, "I'm not sure what you're saying."

Monique smiled, "No touching below the belt," and started to unbutton his shirt.

Will was shocked and thrilled in equal measures, "Stop that," he told her without conviction.

"You don't want your Christmas present?" she pouted and undid another button.

"If you don't stop," he threatened, "I'll unbutton your blouse!"

She looked up at his face and gave him a fast kiss, "No touching below the belt."

His hands were shaking so hard she wasn't sure he'd ever get her top and bra off.

They lay on the bed and cuddled and talked, then cuddled more, followed by more talk, and then Will fell asleep. Monique was tired and considered closing her own eyes, but wasn't going to stay in bed with him. She arose, spread another blanket over him, then quickly finished getting undressed and pulled on a flannel nightgown before going upstairs to the small, Spartan room that Will slept in when he stayed. Will had seemed exceedingly happy with his Christmas gift.

Noise from the second floor woke Monique up the next morning. She heard Kim's voice as well as Sheki's and Will's. The topic of conversation appeared to be her location. She strongly suspected someone would be checking what they called Will's room and she got up, made the bed quickly and hid behind the door as she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

"She's not here," Sheki called, just looking in.

"What?" Kim called.

Sheki went back down the stairs, "She's not there."

Bonnie came up to look a minute later but, like Sheki, didn't conduct a thorough investigation.

Monique waited another ten minutes or so for the conversation to flow down to the first floor. As she calculated, they were starting breakfast as she casually strolled down the back stairs and into the kitchen.

"Where were you?" four people, including Will demanded.

"Oh, upstairs," Monique answered vaguely, waving in the direction with her left hand to see if anyone would notice.

"Let me see that!" Bonnie demanded, fulfilling her duty.

"When did that happen?" Kim asked, admiring the ring.

"Last night, after you went to bed."

"Do you have to give the coat back?" Bonnie asked. "I still haven't slept with him."

"And you're not going to," 'Nique told her.

"How come you never got me a rock like that?" Shego demanded before Kim could ask her the same question.

After breakfast Monique pulled Kim aside for a minute. "I'm hoping for three bridesmaids. Will you be one?"

Kim hugged her friend, "Absolutely. Is Shego…"

"She won't be too hurt, will she? I wasn't going to ask her."

"I think she'll be okay. Depending on the colors she might even be relieved."

Monique smiled, "I'll pick colors I know she'll hate."

Monique planned to ask Cat Tyler when she got into work, but first a phone call.

The phone stopped ringing. "Hello?"

"Hello? Barb?"

"Yes. Monique?"

"I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU!" they shouted at the same time.

"You're marrying Will?" Barb asked.

"What are you doing the second Saturday in June?"

"Sounds like I should be in Middleton."

"What do you mean should be? You got to be here! I want you for one of my bridesmaids!"

"Ah, I'll try… But I'm not sure you'll want me."

"Of course I want you. What are you talking about?"

"Well, it will look a little funny to have a bridesmaid who's eight months pregnant!"

Monique's squeal of joy brought Will running, "What's wrong?" he called.

"Can I tell Will?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. I haven't even told my parents yet. I told Kenneth first, you made top five. I'm—"

Will insisted, "What's wrong?"

"Hold on," Monique told Barb. "Nothing's wrong, Silly," she told Will, "I asked Barb if she'd be a bridesmaid and she said yes. I'm happy to be marrying a wonderful man, don't shatter the illusion."

Satisfied, Will left.

"He's gone," 'Nique said, "what were you saying?"

"I said I'm a little nervous. We tried so long… The doctor says everything is fine, but I'll be extra careful. I won't make a promise."

"Okay, but if you're well I want you in the wedding. I don't care how big you are."

"I promise to try… I'll probably be out to see Middleton in a week or two. I want to meet your friend Kim and see the… You will be married in a church, right?"

The two conspired together for twenty minutes before Monique left for work at Club Banana and to draft her third bridesmaid.

* * *

When she came out Barb praised Ron's cooking extravagantly, thanked Kim profusely for introducing Monique and Will and took the whole house out for dinner.

Barb did not tell Monique about all her planned activities in Middleton. She arrived early for her meeting with the pastor and looked the church over before her appointment.

"Reverend Robinson?"

"Yes, come in. Mrs. Barrington?"

Barb nodded. He was tall, graying at the temples, and forty pounds overweight, but still carried himself like an athlete. He gestured to a chair opposite the desk, "What can I do for you?"

Barb sat down, "I'll be frank. My brother William is to be married here in June. I came out to look over the facilities… I don't think it meets the standards to which my family is accustomed." She could tell she had angered him, but he kept calm and let her finish. "The sanctuary has seen better days, and the parking lot is an eyesore."

He managed to hide most of his resentment, "I am sorry our building doesn't meet with your taste."

"Actually, I'd like to make a donation to your building fund." She pulled out a checkbook and wrote as he watched in wonder. His eyes bulged slightly when he saw the amount. "Obviously I don't have that in my account this minute. Let me call my banker this afternoon and he will transfer the necessary funds. You will be able to deposit that tomorrow."

He laid the check down on his desk, "What conditions are you attaching to this donation?"

"I want it used for renovations to your sanctuary, and get the parking lot paved. I imagine most of my relatives who come to the wedding will only see those areas. I have a second condition. I would like for the church to see that Monique receives, I will put it bluntly, the best damn wedding anyone in this church has ever seen - and I don't want her to know I was here or made the donation."

He pushed the check back toward her, "I can't accept your terms." Rev. Robinson had the deep, and thoroughly unspiritual pleasure of watching her jaw drop in disbelief. "I will explain why, and offer you a compromise."

"P-Please explain," she stammered.

"This is an old building, and sanctuary and parking lot are low priorities. We need a new roof on the Sunday School annex, the fire marshal wants an open stairwell enclosed, and we need to put in an elevator for the elderly and handicapped. I hope you realize those are higher priorities than your cosmetic requests."

"I see… You mentioned a possible compromise"

"We've got a hundred and fifty thousand dollars pledged for the building fund. The amount of your check was more than half the bid for all the renovations we need - including the sanctuary and parking lot. I don't want my people to rely entirely on the kindness of strangers. I'll tell them an anonymous donor will provide matching funds if they will match this in size."

"Will you be able to raise enough?"

"I don't think you need to worry. We have enough people with money - if they'll get up off their blessed assurances and pull out their wallets. I'll tell them they have five weeks to match the offered donation - they won't let this kind of an offer get away."

Barb smiled, "Reverend Robinson, I think I like you." She slid the check back towards him.

Andrew Robinson returned the smile as he placed the check in a desk drawer, "Mrs. Barrington, I know I like you. We love the Grants, I don't think there will be any trouble meeting your second condition."

* * *

Barb had a moment of fear when the official invitation arrived. The reception to be at the church's fellowship hall? Barb had never heard of such a thing, had never even considered it when she visited. She considered calling Monique's mother to suggest a country club or hotel ballroom, but decided to cross her fingers and hope for the best.

* * *

For Will, finding three groomsmen proved as difficult as finding bridesmaids had been easy for Monique. She asked three friends within twenty-four hours of accepting Will's proposal. It took Will longer than twenty-four days. His missing brother would have been his first choice. In his absence he asked Monique's brother Martin. His brother-in-law Kenneth seemed a natural pick. He would make it, or not make it, depending on Barbara's health at the time of the wedding. Will knew everyone at Global Justice, but lacked close friends. He finally found a time without anyone else around, in case he got turned down, to ask, "Ron, would you serve as a groomsman?"

"What?"

"I need three, to pair with Monique's bridesmaids."

Ron hesitated. He felt a little uncomfortable, he didn't dislike Will, but he was not a close friend. "I don't know…"

"I need someone for Kim."

"For Kim?"

"Sure. My sister and her husband are one pair. Martin has worked for Ms Tyler so they make a pair. When I thought about who would pair with Kim you came to mind." It was easier begging, _'I don't have many friends, can you pretend you like me?' _

Ron stuck out his hand, "Hey, for Kim I'd be proud to serve."

* * *

Barb answered her phone in late March to find an irate Monique, "Just what do you think you're doing?" the younger woman demanded. "And did you really think you could get away with it?"

"Excuse me?"

"The church!"

"I think it should be perfectly obvious what I'm doing," Barb replied. "And define 'get away with it'. I thought it might take a little longer for the news to leak out. Reverend Robinson seemed like a man who could keep a secret better than that."

"Don't blame the Reverend. There were a lot of people curious about who would offer a donation like that. Somebody knew someone at the bank… Your name started going around, nobody knew who you were 'til Momma heard it. I've heard there was another condition or two on the gift."

"Well, I--"

"I don't want to hear it! I'm so mad at you right now it will take three or four days before I call you back and say thanks."

"Are you okay?"

"Just confused. Not sure whether I should be angry or grateful. But I'm pretty sure grateful will win."

"I hope so, I'm going crazy all by myself."

"How is the second trimester treating you?"

* * *

In mid-April it hit the fan. Again.

"We need a few years together, without kids," Monique told Will, "to get to know each other better. Don't know how Kim and Shego kept from going crazy."

"Are you certain that they did?"

'Nique grinned, "Not really. But it forced Kim to do some growing up, and Shego to take more responsibility - probably what they both needed. I don't see either of us needing those lessons."

"Any particular time table?" he asked, drawing her close.

"Down boy," she giggled, pretending to resist. "Don't even think about kids 'til after I have my MBA."

Reference to the MBA set Will off. He agreed with Monique that they needed time as a couple before children. But somehow reference to the MBA angered him, something about his wife, working retail, and defining the timetable for his married life pained him worse than usual and the argument grew loud and bitter.

Will left early, stalking out angrily.

While he was not consciously aware of it, he accepted the English common-law definition of marriage, that a man and women, when married, become a single person in the eyes of the law - and that person is the husband.

He spent two days feeling confused and miserable. Even burying himself in paperwork at GJ didn't help his mood. He realized he couldn't be happy without her. If she wasn't going to surrender to his will then he would surrender to hers.

He checked to make sure she wasn't working that evening, then flew to Middleton. He knew her habits enough to know she studied in her room. Bonnie, watching television in the living room, let him in and pointed in the direction of the stairs when he asked to see Monique. On his way upstairs he put on his afternoon purchase, a wide dog collar. Monique opened the door when he knocked softly and he handed her the end of the leash. "You win. What do you want me to do?"

He wasn't sure what he expected. Best case scenario had her realizing she was treating him poorly and dropping her plans for the MBA.

He was not prepared for the anger in her eyes. She threw the end of the leash at him, followed by the ring from her finger, and then slammed the door - loudly.

"What was that?" Kim called.

"Nothing," Will lied, hastily taking off the collar and retrieving the ring.

* * *

Days later Will couldn't believe he'd been reduced to asking lesbians for advice on his love life. On the other hand it might make perfect sense. They both had more experience with keeping a woman happy than he had. It was especially humiliating to ask Kim for assistance. But she was one of 'Nique's best friends and likely privy to information others might not have.

They ordered before the discussion began. Will went with a New York strip, Kim a chicken Caesar salad, and Shego the trout almondine with saffron rice and asparagus in hollandaise sauce. "This is wonderful," the green woman commented. "We get to abuse you and you're still paying for the meal."

"Hush," Kim warned her. "We aren't here to abuse Will."

"I thought we were going to talk about him and Monique?"

"We are," Kim agreed.

"It's simple, Will's a jerk."

"Excuse me," the man in question interrupted, "but how do you come to that conclusion?"

"Elementary, my dear Mister Du, you're a man. Men are all jerks… With the possible exception of our fathers – although sometimes I'm a little concerned about Kim's dad—"

"Hey!" Kim objected.

"Sorry, but your Mom could have done better."

Kim turned to Will, "Maybe she's trying to make me feel some sympathy for you."

"I mean," Shego continued, "do you think I'd have settled for Kim if I could have found a half-way decent guy?"

"Now that's a low blow," Kim protested.

"That was long ago," Shego said, taking Kim's hand and kissing it gallantly. "Now there is no one on earth I would rather spend my life with."

There was a pause as the waiter delivered two salads and two half carafes of red and white to the table for Shego and Will along with a small cheese and fruit board for Kim.

Will resumed the conversation after the waiter left, "I can't believe I asked you two for help. You fight worse than Monique and I."

"No, we fight better, we're together," Kim pointed out.

"She's right you know," Shego seconded, "You think it's easy for a nice Jewish girl like me to live with a shiksa like Kim?"

"You've only be a nice Jewish girl for the last three years."

"I've been a nice Jewish girl… well, a Jewish girl anyway, my whole life. I just didn't know it until three years ago."

"I still don't understand how that works," Will interrupted.

"What part of it, her being Jewish without knowing it or the fact I'm a Methodist and she's Jewish?" Kim asked.

"The second part."

"That's easy," Shego answered. "Respect. I'm still figuring this Jewish stuff out, but it means a lot to me. Kim's Christianity's important to her. Because we each have something which is important to us, we accept that it is equally important for the other."

"Sometimes a little hard on the twins. They end up at synagogue with Shego on Saturday and church with me on Sunday. But that gives each of us a special time with them."

"And Kim sleeps late on Saturday morning and I sleep late on Sunday morning," Shego added.

"But shouldn't one of you be trying to convert the other or something?"

"That's not respect," Shego answered. "We can talk about our beliefs with each other, but we accept who we are and don't demand the other one change. Now if Kim decides to go Jewish someday—"

"Or Shego wants to join the Methodists," Kim interjected, "that will be fine. But we don't require it as a condition for loving each other."

"That's what respect is all about," Shego summed up. "But the question on the table now… Or after they serve dinner – I see them coming our way – is what in the hell you did to piss off Monique?"

Will's steak and baked potato grew cold as he complained about how poorly Monique listened to him. He missed the occasional glance Shego or Kim shot at the other. To them is sounded more like Will demanding his own way than Monique failing to listen.

As Will wound down Kim took up the conversation. "What would you do if Monique demanded you quit Global Justice?"

"That has nothing to do with my not wanting her to work. I have enough money she doesn't need to work."

"You have enough money you don't need to work either," Kim pointed out. "But let's imagine she is stupid and unreasonable enough to demand you quit."

"Well, I would-- Hey, what are you implying?"

"If the flue shits," Shego muttered. "Seeing yourself, Will?"

"I'm not like that! I surrendered! I told her she won, and she threw her ring back at me."

Shego sighed and shook her head.

"Okay, what was that all about," Will asked.

"Did you listen to yourself?" Kim asked.

"Listen to myself?"

"What you said, just now. You really see this in terms of winning and losing? One of you gets to win and the other has to lose?"

Will looked puzzled, "Isn't that the way it works?"

"Let me hit him, Kim," Shego pleaded. "Somebody needs to put the moop out of his misery."

It was Kim's turn to sigh, "Look, it's two winners, or two losers, in a relationship. If you think you won and she lost, or you lost and she won, you're both losers."

"I don't get it."

"We can tell," Shego told him. "Look, Monique loves you—"

"She does?" Will asked smiling.

"Yeah, God knows why. But you need to do some serious work on the relationship." She turned to Kim, "What was the prediction the bookies put on our staying together?"

"One of us would try and kill the other one within two years.

"Was that from the time we moved in together or from the wedding?"

"Moving in together," Kim said, "we're past two years now." She turned to Will, "You and Monique have your own set of problems. People sometimes stare at Shego and me when we're out. They're always going to stare at you and Monique. If you think you have to surrender to get her you're going to end up resenting her. You—"

"I would never resent her!"

"Listen to Kim," Shego warned.

"You both need to feel like winners for it to work. It's about respect, not trying to buy her affection."

"I don't try to… Is that what it looks like?"

"Hard to tell," Kim shrugged. "You're used to spending money for what you want. But that's not why Monique loves you."

Shego's voice took a serious tone, "Do you think she 'owes you' something for what you've spent on her?"

He hesitated a second, "No… At least I hope I'm not that stupid."

"Good answer," Kim told him.

"So what do I do now?"

"Ask Bonnie out," Shego suggested, "you can probably buy her affection."

"Shego!" Kim hissed and tried to kick the green woman under the table.

"Can you listen to her and try to respect her?" Shego asked. "She shouldn't ask you to surrender who you are, and you shouldn't ask her to surrender who she is."

"If you think you have to remake her in order to love her, you don't love her," Kim added

"I love her!" Will insisted.

"Then what in the hell are you doing, sitting here at a restaurant with the two of us?" Shego demanded.

"She's mad at me."

"And how is that going to change by having dinner with us? Talk with her."

"Should I buy her something?"

"Ummm, probably not," Kim told him. "Could look like you're trying to buy her attention."

"Will she talk with me?"

Kim put her hand on Will's, "You need to know this; she loves you."

"Lord knows why," Shego added.

"And she feels as miserable right now as you do, maybe worse."

"Worse for certain," Shego commented. "You love a wonderful girl and she's in love with an idiot."

"You're not helping things," Kim hissed at her.

Shego rolled her eyes, "And this is the thanks I get for trying to be honest?"

Kim apologized to Will, "She hasn't had a lot of experience being honest."

Shego snorted, "People don't have experience hearing the truth." She turned to Will, "Call her. Don't surrender who you are, and don't ask her to give up being who she is. If that's the woman you fell in love with, that's the woman you want to marry."

* * *

There were only a couple customers in Club Banana when Will arrived about forty minutes before closing. Monique pointedly did not ask him if there was anything he wanted.

He approached her with the right opening line, however, "I don't want to disrupt your work, but could I take you out for a cup of coffee after you close?"

"I need to deposit today's receipts in the bank."

"That's fine. I don't want to interfere with your job. But I want to talk with you."

She looked at him skeptically, and it showed in her voice, "You don't want to disrupt my work?"

"I had dinner with Kim and Shego this evening. They inform me that I've been a complete ass and need to do a better job of listening to you."

"And what do you think?"

"I'm… I'm not sure. They might be right."

"They're right, Sherlock – at least in part. You're not an idiot. But you need to listen."

"Please, 'Nique, you knew I didn't have a lot of experience when we started seeing each other. Give me a forty-seventh chance."

That actually brought a smile to her lips.

"I've never given up on you," he reminded her.

"I don't ever want to see that stupid dog collar again."

"Never," he promised. He hesitated a second before continuing, "There may be things which are important to you that I don't understand. I can't promise I will understand, at least right away, but I'll try. And I'll believe they are important to you even if I can't understand why."

"Uh-huh?" Monique sounded skeptical.

"I can't promise to change overnight. I love you. And if this," he gestured at the store, "is part of who you are I have to learn to accept and appreciate the fact."

"You really mean that?"

"I really mean that."

"You're going to stop trying to change me?"

He hesitated, "I'm going to try and change me."

Monique didn't always agree with Will's opinions, but he had always been honest with her. She leaned over and quickly kissed him. "Don't change too much. I don't want to lose the good parts. Now, you going to wait for me out in the mall, or back in the break room?"


	15. Dearly Beloved

Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. Registered trade names property of their respective owners.

Part of this chapter reflects the story Good Riddance.

**Chapter 15 - Dearly Beloved**

Will's immediate family arrived in Middleton for the Thursday evening wedding rehearsal. Friday Monique gave them a guided tour of her town. Barb discovered Bonnie starred in The Mattress Factory and arranged a private matinée for any out-of-town guests who might be interested at the Off-Elm Street Theater in Lowerton on Saturday after the wedding.

The women of Casa Possible invited Cat Tyler and Barb to the party for Monique on Friday evening, but Barb needed extra sleep and Cat explained that the only way she could make it would be to assign Monique to work. They kept it low key. Most of Monique's friends from high school, college, and church left early and the house mates moved the remnants of the party to the back room at Columbia to Kenya. Ron would have been accepted as one of the girls, but Bonnie had bent his arm and gotten him into the kitchen at the Off-Elm so the two of them missed it.

"What in the hell is up with those two," Shego muttered before taking a sip from her latte.

"And is Bonnie really interested in Alan?" Kim wondered.

"Or does Ron still secretly pine for Zita?" Monique intoned in the voice of a television announcer.

Zita shot her a dirty look for asking the question.

"Alan?" Justine asked.

"Her co-star," Monique explained. "Major hunk. If I wasn't engaged to Will I might have thrown myself at him. Felix is lucky you haven't seen him."

Justine just smiled.

"So, when are you and Felix…" Kim inquired.

"Probably soon," Justine began, then hesitated, "I, uh, need to talk with my lawyer," she said, looking at Shego.

"Pre-nup?" the green woman asked.

"No, I have, ah, some other questions."

They took Monique by her old apartment when C2K closed. Will was staying at the big house and Monique didn't want him to see her before the wedding. And her Momma wanted her baby home one last time before she became a married woman.

There was no party for Will, a fact he appreciated. Ron worked, Kenneth was preoccupied with Barb's health, and while Martin would have loved to take Will out to a strip club he suffered from the chronological inability to get through the door.

His parents took Will to dinner, with Kenneth and Barb, on Friday evening. He was too nervous to remember anything that was said. His dad and Kenneth swapped stories about how little they remembered of their own nuptials while their wives insisted they remembered everything about their wedding days.

After dinner Will returned to the big house, wondering if he'd manage to sleep at all that night.

Saturday dawned exactly as the weatherman had forecast, to the dismay of many in the wedding party and delight of Rev. Robinson. The day promised to be sunny and hot. The church had done so well on the fund drive that a couple more improvements had been slipped in with few outside the Board of Trustees being aware of them, which included an air-conditioning system that would see its debut for the Grant wedding.

Martin headed for the church early.

"You're not going to ride in the limo with us? It's getting here at eight-thirty."

"In the groom's party, Momma. Got to make sure the groom shows up on time and sober."

His mother's eyes narrowed. "I trust Will. But I wish I knew what you were up to."

Marty dropped his tux off in the room he had been told was set aside for the groom's party and phoned Will. "You on your way yet?"

"Ten minutes. Ron made me some eggs and toast. I hope I can keep them down."

Marty was out on the corner in front of the church eight minutes later, scanning the streets. He almost missed it. Will did not drive his BMW. But the driver of a couple year old Saturn which turned onto a side street two blocks from the church looked familiar. A minute later Will and Ron, carrying their tuxes in plastic bags, came around the corner. He directed them to the room where they'd change.

"You coming in with us?" Ron asked.

"Be with you in a minute, going to look over the new parking lot. They put up some hoops so guys can play b-ball when there's not a wedding."

As soon as Ron and Will went into the church Marty sped in the direction of the car. The fact Will wasn't driving his Beemer proclaimed the fact he expected the car to be 'decorated' when he got out from the wedding. And Marty didn't want Will to be disappointed.

'Tiny', leaning back on an old folding chair, sat in the shade by the Saturn. "Back off, Marty," he warned as Monique's brother examined the car.

"C'mon, Man, he's gonna be family. I need to mess up the car for him."

"Righteous Flea gave me a Grant," Tiny said, pulling a fifty from his pocket, "to watch this car. Now if something was to happen to it, he might want the General back. 'Course, if I had another fifty I could give him his back and I wouldn't have to sit out here all morning."

Martin dug out his billfold. It cleaned him out, but it was important to observe tradition. On the other hand, he needed to get back to the church and provide himself with an alibi. He dug out his cell phone.

_"Foxx Salvage."_

"Yeah, is Steve there?"

_"Hold on a minute please."_

A minute later a familiar voice got on line, _"Yeah?"_

"Urkel, this is Marty. I need you to do a number on a car--"

_"Crush it?"_

"No, nothing permanent. The guy who's going to marry my sister drove it to the church."

_"I don't soap windows with a big heart."_

"Aw man, I'm asking you to, like, disconnect wires and stuff. I want it so when they leave the church and are all ready for the honeymoon it'll take hours before this car is ready to move."

_"All four tires and the battery."_

"Say what?"

_"All four tires, and the battery. You're asking for my time, I'm asking for some payment. He come out, car is up on blocks - all four tires gone. Send him to my uncle's salvage yard. I'm thinkin' we'll have some in stock exactly the right size."_

Martin hesitated a minute, then gave his friend a description of the car and plate number, along with the location and headed back for the church.

Kenneth had arrived and was in the process of changing when Martin got back. Marty buckled down and finished his tie in a dead heat with Barb's husband. Marty and Kenneth left Ron watching Will, and Will trying to get Colin, who had the job of ring bearer, into a small tux. The two waved to Monique as she arrived, looking only slightly calmer than Will and she swept past them and headed for the changing rooms reserved for the bride's party.

Kim, Bonnie, and Justine arrived a few minutes after Monique with Kasy and Sheki in tow. A woman from the church showed Bonnie where to sit with the guest book and Justine took her assigned place by the gift table.

The two men stayed out by Bonnie. Between the two of them they could identify almost everyone who arrived and whispered names and relationships to Bonnie.

Two men in uniform, accompanied by a small girl, came in and Marty snapped to attention. "Grandpa Teddy! Glad you could make it, Sir."

"At ease, Marty," his uncle Chester laughed. "Do you have any idea how disappointed we are in you?"

"No, Sir. But I hope you'll get over it."

"It's my own fault, I fear," Marty's grandpa sighed, "I gave him a book on the Tuskegee Airmen when he was only four."

They all laughed, but the little girl tugged on Uncle Chester's sleeve, "Grandpa, where am I supposed to go?"

"I'll ask your cousin in just a minute, child."

"Martin and William couldn't make it?"

"No, neither could get leave. But where do I take Graça?"

Marty gave direction to the bride's room, where Graça would be dressed to act as ring bearer for Monique.

"Two Martin Grants?" Kenneth asked as the two men accompanied the girl.

"Yeah, Martin King and Martin Luther."

Monique was not fully dressed yet, and Kim wondered if she would need to wrestle her down to the ground so Cat and Barb could finish dressing her when the knock came on the door with the call, "Can an old sailor come in?"

"Grandpa Teddy!" Monique squealed and ran to open the door, then dropped to her knees to hug her young cousin.

"You sure you don't want one of us to walk you down the aisle?" Uncle Chet offered. "Either of us would consider it a huge honor."

"I know," Monique said. She stood and gave her father's father and brother each a hug and kiss, "But Momma raised me these last few years by herself… I think it's what Daddy would have wanted."

"Can't argue with that," Uncle Chet said, pretending he didn't need to wipe away a tear.

"Out," Momma ordered, "We need to get Graça dressed and finish with Monique."

"See you in the ceremony," her grandfather promised.

Monique had tried to warn Marty about Aunt Rose, but her words had failed to provide him sufficient preparation.

"Kenneth," she said, standing in front of the two in the narthex.

"Aunt Rose, may I introduce you to Martin Grant?"

She peered at Marty through her thick glasses. He thought her gaze a little unsettling, but then she reached up and pinched his cheek, hard. "Monique's brother. You're a handsome boy. Glad to have you in the family."

While she embarrassed Marty, Charles Duquesne arrived. "Aunt Rose. Who are you torturing?"

"This is Monique's brother, Martin. Isn't he a good looking young man? Tell me, Martin, what other new family do I have here?"

Martin described the Grants there.

"Grandpa Teddy? Your grandfather Theodore?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am, Martin. Call me Aunt Rose. And I want to meet your grandfather Theodore. Monique told me so much about that young man."

Martin almost pointed out that Grandpa Teddy lived in a retirement home, but thought better of it. To Aunt Rose he might still be a young man.

"Will any Dukes be here?" she demanded.

Martin thought for a minute. "One, I think… Studying to be a pharmacist at Upperton--"

"Hear that, Charles? A Duke. I feel positively Jeffersonian. Martin, you must make certain I am introduced. Don't disappoint me."

"No ma'am-- I mean Aunt Rose. I'll make sure I introduce you after the ceremony."

The ancient relative tottered away on the arm of Charles Duquesne. "Is she always like that," Martin asked Kenneth in awe.

"Pretty much," he answered, "I think you caught her on a good day."

* * *

Will's mother and father stood outside the sanctuary, peering in, as the hour approached for the wedding. "There is less family here than there should be," Linda Du complained to her husband.

"It was a distance to travel," he reminded her.

"We've attended functions that were further away, and so have they."

Betty Director and most of the top leaders from Global Justice were there. Will's hard work impressed all of them and they wanted to give a show of support. While a general invitation had gone out to agents only LaTisha Jackson showed up, and mostly out of curiosity. Will's attitude alienated all the agents and they avoided him when possible.

The organist changed the tempo of the music and an usher went to the narthex to bring in family. Momma's side of the family was already seated, and sober, but ushers escorted Grandpa Teddy and Uncle Chet to the front of the bride's side of the sanctuary. Then Will's father and mother were ushered to the front of the groom's side.

It should have been time for the groomsmen to enter, but the usher dispatched to alert them found an ancient relative giving Martin the third degree and there was a slight delay as Aunt Rose was ushered down. Most guests assumed she was Will's grandmother, or great-grandmother.

"Who is that," she whispered to the usher, pointing to a white haired man in uniform.

"The bride's grandfather. Now if you'll just sit here, I'll-"

"I will not sit there, young man. I want to meet my cousin."

"But this is the groom's--"

"Don't talk back to me, young man. Now, seat me by my cousin."

Kenneth entered first. There was a little talking as he went into the sanctuary. Aunt Rose had introduced herself, pulled a small notebook and fountain pen from her purse and was writing Theodore Grant's responses to her interrogation in her spidery handwriting. The minister nodded and reminded Kenneth to move to the right with a slight nod. Ron followed him, and then Martin. Will appeared, looking slightly like a deer caught in the headlights and took his place in the front at the minister's left hand.

Barb moved slowly to the front. After the rehearsal Rev. Robinson had seen to it that a chair was available for the bride's party if Barbara needed to sit down. Barb planned to stand for the whole ceremony, but wasn't willing to be a martyr if she needed to sit. Kim took the middle position and Cat smiled and nodded to Marty as she took her place.

The organist shifted to a lighter tune as Colin and Graça came to the front, each carefully holding a small satin pillow on which a ring had been carefully tied. The two jostled each other slightly, but Grandpa Teddy managed to ignore Rose just long enough (and it wasn't easy) to shoot them a look which quieted them down.

The ushers rolled out the runner and Kasy and Sheki got their moment in the sun. Kasy threw rose petals as she strolled to the front. Sheki marched solemnly along doling out rose petals on the runner. Three-quarters of the way down the aisle Kasy had run out of petals and made a grab for Sheki's basket. Sheki moved the basket away from Kasy and a fight appeared imminent when Shego's stage whisper warned, "Kasy, no fighting."

When the two reached the front Sheki still had almost a quarter of the rose petals she had started out with. She carefully turned the basket over and dumped the remainder. The two were supposed to head over to Shego and Grandma Anne. Sheki went to Shego. Kasy, seeing Graça standing by Cat, figured children were allowed and sped to Kim.

"Kasy, go to grandma" Kim whispered.

"No!" Kasy exclaimed more loudly than she should have.

"Don't worry about it," the minister whispered to Kim and nodded to the organist, who changed the presets on the organ and began the Wedding March from Lohengrin.

The congregation rose and faced the back on the sanctuary as Monique came in on her mother's arm.

Linda Du caught her breath. She had seen Monique many times, but never imagined she could look as beautifully radiant as she did that moment. She took her eyes off Monique for a minute to look at her son, standing in the front of the church. The look of terror had vanished. She had never seen Will look as happy as he did right now. There had been many times Will's mother had doubted if Will and Monique were a good match. There would be days in the future when the worries returned. But at that moment she felt the two were made for each other. She elbowed her husband in the ribs. "Give me your handkerchief," she whispered.

"Why?" he whispered back.

She sighed softly, the man obviously couldn't remember weddings, "Because I'm going to cry."

Monique experienced an odd sensation as she walked down the aisle, it was as if she felt her father's presence beside her. She said nothing, but her Momma would have said she had the same feeling.

At the front of the sanctuary Rev. Robinson asks, "Who gives this woman to be married?"

Momma handed her baby off to Will and headed for the small box of facial tissues waiting for her on the front pew.

"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God – and in the face of this company – to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony…" the minister began. Will didn't hear a word of it. His eyes were on Monique and there was room for nothing else in his brain but how much he loved her. Monique would remember every word of the ceremony.

Will, who had performed the repetition of vows with the minister flawlessly on Thursday evening had trouble repeating them in the actual ceremony.

By mutual consent the phrase "and obey" had been dropped from the vows.

If Will had stumbled during the vows he could at least smile at Monique during the exchange of rings, as her hands were shaking even worse than his own.

Barb gave up on her plan to stand for the entire service and sat down during Rev. Robinson's meditation on First Corinthians thirteen. And while the gospel choir had been mentioned during the wedding rehearsal she had not gained a proper sense of how much they would be a part of the ceremony.

Will and Monique lit the unity candle, and Rev. Robinson intoned, "And so, by the power vested in me by the State and Almighty God, I now pronounce you man and wife."

At least Will had preserved enough presence of mind he did not need to be reminded to kiss Monique. They kept it short and innocent, feeling a little uncomfortable with their parents watching them. Besides, there was this evening to look forward to.

Will and Monique both beamed as they recessed down the aisle. Not even a stern look from their Grandpa Teddy kept Colin and Graça from a little shoving as they exited; the two had stood still too long. Martin, escorting Cat and right behind the ring bearers, whispered, "Colin! Behave!" to no avail.

When Kim took Ron's arm Kasy took Ron's other hand. Sheki refused to miss the recessional and wriggled out of Grandma Anne's grasp to take Kim's other hand. There was a little whispering as the four recessed, wondering how Ron and Kim could have managed a dark haired daughter.

Kenneth gave serious consideration to going down on one knee and asking Barb to marry him as they moved to the center for the recessional. Reflecting that not everyone might find it funny he wisely decided against it, but did lean over to kiss his pregnant wife before they joined the parade to the back of the church. Rev. Robinson nodded to Monique's mother, giving her the cue to join and then turned and gave the sign to the Dus.

The Fellowship Hall was not as dreadful as Barb had feared, and if it lacked something in elegance compared with the receptions which followed the typical family wedding it was more than sufficiently replaced by a feeling of real fellowship.

Rev. Robinson stopped at the table where three choir members were giving Barb child-rearing tips, having discovered this would be her first child. "I hope the service met with your approval."

"It was wonderful… Although I will admit I almost expected you to give an altar call at the end of your meditation."

He smiled, "I was tempted. I'm just delighted we didn't have a birth during a wedding ceremony."

She smiled, "That would have been a first for you, I'm certain."

"Second," he chuckled. "First one happened in a ceremony at the hospital."

A small jazz ensemble provided music for the reception and dancing.

Kasy and Sheki tried to exhaust Ron by keeping him dancing until Bonnie reminded him they needed to head to Lowerton.

Some guests had started to drift away, and Kenneth was getting ready to organize those heading to the theater in Lowerton when a loud noise interrupted the reception. It sounded like a helicopter hovering over the block. Various guests wondered what was happening, the common idea seemed to be a police action in the neighborhood, but Will took Monique by the hand, "Come on, our ride is here."

"What's going on," Monique asked, raising her voice slightly because of the noise.

"I didn't want to get stuck in traffic. I've got my plane at the airport."

About half the guests trailed them out to the parking lot and saw a t-bar lowered from the helicopter. Will looked around and noticed Tiny standing to one side and waved.

The huge man smiled and returned the wave.

"I don't know about this," Monique said, looking dubiously at the place she was supposed to sit and the apparatus to buckle her in.

"You'll be fine." Will assured her, making sure she was secure before taking his place beside her.

LaTisha found herself near Kim and Shego, since Kim was a familiar face even if the two weren't especially friendly.

"I'm surprised to see you," Kim remarked. "I think you're the only agent here… Other than me."

"Couldn't believe Will 'stick up his butt' Du was marrying a sister. Had to see it to believe it."

Shego wondered how the black woman referred to Kim when the redhead wasn't present.

Marty came running up, shouting to be heard over the noise of the chopper, "The car! What about the car?"

"The car?" Will asked, apparently puzzled.

"Yeah, the car you drove here in?"

"Didn't Tiny give you the key? Title's in the glove compartment. My gift to the best man." Will looked up and waved to the man operating the winch who began to bring them up.

Monique gave a small shriek of terror and held on to Will for dear life. They were both laughing as they rose into the air. Monique managed to let go of Will with one hand for just long enough to wave quickly to her friends.

Tiny had one small chore to finish before introducing himself to the slim woman by the redhead and woman with the odd complexion. He pushed through the crowd to get behind Martin. When Martin turned around, after watching Will and Monique safely into the helicopter, Tiny handed him the keys to the car. "Drive safe now."

--The End--


End file.
